Never Say Goodbye
by Mitch82
Summary: Clark and Lex remember another life together. Slash. Final chapters posted!
1. Never Say Goodbye

Title: Never Say Goodbye

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 1

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

Feedback: Makes me happy.

Author's Note: I'm leaving the time setting vague on purpose, because I can't even begin to wade through the mess that is Tempest. ;) I'll just say it's some time after the beginning of Clark's junior year in high school and the Season One finale never happened.

Author's Note #2: This story was totally inspired by the song Etienne by Tori Amos. Obviously, there will be more to the story than there is to the song, but the song perfectly captures the general feel of things. Go download it if you want to know what I mean. :)

********** 

In an endless, grassy field, beneath a grey sky, a chilling wind rises off of the water, sending excited shivers through the two young men.

Clark tightens his grip on his lover's hand and smiles mischievously. The other young man smiles back and they run headlong into the gale, challenging it, knowing that together there is no obstacle they cannot overcome.

But eventually, their momentum does wind down. They fall to the ground, rolling around in a tight embrace, covering each other with warm kisses, whispering soft ecstasies. 

"Show me magick," Lex says eagerly. 

__

But it's not Lex, Clark thinks. _Not quite._

"I can't," Clark replies, "the crystal is slowly dying. Besides, even at full strength, it couldn't bring your horse back to life."

"My horse be damned. My days in service to the king are finished. When we made love in the clearing, you took that horrible suit of armor off me for the last time." Clark smiles and nips at his lover's lower lip. "But what about the wind? You caused that, didn't you?"

"Not with the crystal," Clark answers sweetly. "Something that big can only come from the strength of love. My love for you, fair knight."

**********

Clark awoke, feeling warm and happy. Blinking a few times, he realized he was back in his own room. The chilly wind was gone, the leaden sky replaced with his ceiling, and a hollow space in the circle of his arms, where once there was Lex.

__

Lex.

Clark took a deep breath and repeated the name with a flutter of his eyes and a surety that if he wasn't careful, he would die of longing.

Okay, so he had never actually held Lex. Not since the day on the bridge anyway. But he had taken every opportunity he could to touch his beautifully bald friend, which were popping up more and more, what with new meteor freaks showing up just about every week and Lex's unsettlingly persistent way of needing rescuing.

Not that Clark minded playing hero for such a perfect man, although he certainly didn't want Lex to get hurt. Lex had received several physical thrashings in the short span of their friendship and it was as if Clark could feel the pain of every bruise. But the need to touch Lex, to take care of him, was satisfied in those times. A squeeze of the hand, a penetrating back rub (for completely therapeutic purposes, of course), and even a firm grip of the ass the few times that Lex had been dangling from buildings, cliffs, and the like.

__

Sorry, Lex, he though dryly. _There's just nowhere else I can grab you. I need the leverage, and with the angle of our bodies divided by our combined mass, keeping in mind that our center of gravity is usually somewhere around the chest, and not forgetting the clearly existent magnetism between my hand and your ass, it's positively the only way._

Clark blushed at his thoughts and forced himself out of the bed. Thoughts like these never led to anything good. Thoughts like these led to sexual frustration, sticky sheets, and his third tardy this week.

Stepping into the shower, he turned the water as cold as it would go in hopes of clearing his head. He closed his eyes and had visions of glaciers and icicles and Lex as a knight. Clark's eyes shot open at that last item.

__

Damn, he thought. _It's going to be a long day._

**********

A slow-motion whirl of paper, pencils, lectures, and infinite impatience, and somehow, school was finally over. Chloe could see, and wasn't incredibly surprised by, the fact that Clark was distracted. She suggested they blow off the Torch for one afternoon and go get a cup of coffee.

"At the Talon?" Clark's mouth practically dripped with the eagerness of a puppy.

__

Lana. Figures. "Yes, Clark, at the Talon. What kind of people would we be, after all, if we didn't at least make an attempt to support our dear friend's financial venture?"

The question was rhetorical, but it wouldn't have much mattered anyway, as Clark was already halfway across the parking lot to Chloe's car.

On the drive, Clark only half-listened to Chloe's ideas for her latest scathing editorial on the horrible acoustics of the school's auditorium. His uncharacteristically good posture and constant glances out the window as if expecting another meteor shower at any second were obvious indications of his nervousness.

"Clark, did something happen?"

"Huh?"

"You've been pining after Lana forever, and while she is great and exciting and all that, you have never been exactly giddy about her. Now, you're suddenly bouncing around like you've got hermit crabs in your underwear. What gives?"

"Nothing gives," he replied indignantly. "Is it so awful that I'm glad to have a day off? I haven't been to the Talon in ages. It'll be good to finally relax." _And hopefully bump into Lex. Well, maybe not bump into exactly. Gently collide with, perhaps. Or even playfully sidle up to. What do you say, Lex? A little coffee and sidling? Or should we just skip right to the bumping?_

And now I'm in trouble. Clark shifted slightly, trying to ease the growing tension in his pants as inconspicuously as he could.

"Whatever," Chloe said, dropping the subject. "I have more important things to worry about. Lex is letting me interview him on the latest upgrades in Plant No. 3's processing technology."

"What? Lex?" Clark's attention locked onto Chloe's words for the first time that day.

"Yeah. He said he'd be at the Talon this afternoon if I wanted to drop by."

"Well, drop by! You don't want to miss your opportunity! And we haven't been to the Talon in ages!"

Chloe blinked. "Clark, that's where we're going, remember?"

"...oh, yeah." Embarrassed grin.

"Correction. That's where we are."

The engine cut off and Clark saw that they were parked outside the Talon. A fiery leap of his stomach as he recognized the shape of Lex's car parked in front of the building.

__

It's no ornamented stallion, but Lex can make any form of transportation sexy.

He smiled involuntarily at the thought of his dream. Again, Chloe broke into his daze.

"Are you coming?"

"Uh, yeah."

They entered the former theater and saw a sign next to the counter that said "Please Seat Yourself."

Chloe smiled. "Ah, my favorite table is free."

She took Clark by the elbow and led him to a table in the corner across the room from the bar. As he sat down, he scanned the room for any stylish, bald millionaire's sons that might happen to pop in, but noticed that his view was mostly blocked by a row of decorative foliage.

"Chloe, I can hardly see the restaurant from here."

"Why do you think I like this table? It keeps distractions to a minimum."

"But how will Lex know we're here?" he whined as he bounced in his seat like a child having a tantrum.

"That's it, Clark. Decaf for you. Honestly, I'm going to have to invest in some sleeping powder for those hermit crabs of yours. They're obviously running up a storm. And why are you so excited to see Lex, anyway? You see him all the time."

It was true. Clark made a point of visiting Lex at least four times a week. More when possible. And although the older boy made Clark's knees wobbly without fail, Clark was never this out of control. It was because of the dream.

Clark knew from personal experience that dreams could change one's perspective on the world around them. For instance, no matter how much he cared about, looked up to, and wanted Lex, having a dream about him always made their connection seem deeper. It made the anticipation of seeing Lex again that much sweeter. Especially with a dream as intimate and jolting in its lucidity as the previous night's.

He just couldn't get over how real it felt. His other dreams about Lex, while wonderful, had been fraught with the inevitable pitfalls and surreal symbolism of the subconscious. This latest dream didn't seem like a dream at all. It was almost as if for the few minutes, or seconds, that the dream lasted, Clark was actually there, in that different place and time with his love at his side.

This time it was Lana who interrupted his pensive silence.

"What can I get you two today?"

As Chloe prepared to give her order, Clark blurted out one word. "Lex."

Lana laughed. "Do you want fries with that?"

"I'll have a cappuccino," Chloe said rolling her eyes, "and for Clark, a decaf latte with a shot of Valium."

"An upper and a downer coming right up."

"And can you tell Lex I'm here for the interview?"

"Why don't you tell me yourself?"

A flash of white skin and black suit and Clark's heart dropped into his bladder.

Lex's cool blue eyes passed over him in a self-assured glance. "Something wrong, Clark?"

"I..." Clark was cut short by the ring of Chloe's cell phone.

"Sorry, guys. I'll be right back." Chloe walked away to answer her phone. Lana smiled confusedly at Clark and Lex before leaving as well.

"I'll be right back with your orders."

Lex swooped down to the chair across from Clark, put his coffee mug down on the table, and leaned in. "Having a coffee date with Smallville's brightest up and coming reporter?"

"Yeah," Clark sighed, dreamily staring at Lex. "I mean no!!! Well, yes and no actually. We are having coffee, but it isn't a date. Just a couple of platonic friends getting together for no good reason."

Lex arched an eyebrow. "Tell me Chloe had the sense to order you a decaf. You could do without the added... effervescence." The chide was delivered in a playful tone and Clark smiled goofily. "What's got you so jumpy today?"

"Oh, it's just my crabs." Lex's eyes widened and Clark's face shot to boiling temperature as he realized what he'd said. "I-I don't mean crabs. Not _crabs _crabs. Hermit crabs." _Not helping, Clark._ "Because Chloe was teasing me, and you know, they're little and they run around and... and..." Lex looked humorously intrigued. "I don't have crabs, Lex," Clark finished desperately.

The older boy finally broke into a fit of laughter. "It's okay, Clark, it's obviously a private joke. You can explain it to me another time." _We have the rest of eternity,_ his eyes seemed to promise. Clark smiled, relieved.

"So, how was your day?" Lex asked, sipping his coffee.

"I had a dream about you."

The coffee showered from Lex's mouth onto the table as he started choking, and Clark was instantly at his side to see if he was okay. He knelt down and his hand found its way to Lex's lower back, rubbing gently. Before he could apologize, Chloe came back.

"Guys, I'm so sorry. That was my dad. He's having car trouble on the freeway and I need to go pick him up." Lex looked up at Chloe and she noticed his coffee-stained chin. "Do I even want to know what's going on here?"

"No," the boys answered simultaneously.

"Didn't think so. Clark, see you tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"Lex, I'll be in touch. I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Chloe rushed out the door and Lex's gaze turned to rest on Clark, who picked up a napkin. He cupped Lex's face with his left hand and began gently dabbing his chin. Lex remained silent, seemingly impassive to Clark's actions, but his eyes drew Clark into their intensity and the dabbing slowed to a soft rubbing. Soon the rubbing stopped too as Clark's thumb reached up and shakily traced Lex's lower lip. Lex seemed on the verge of something pleasantly ferocious when Lana returned with two mugs.

"Is everything okay here?"

"Yeah," Clark said quietly as he returned to his seat. "We just had a little spill, but I can clean it up. Chloe had to leave."

"Oh. So should I take her cappuccino back or--"

"I'll take it," Lex said evenly, his eyes never leaving Clark.

"Okay," Lana replied, sensing the tension. "You boys don't have too much fun, now." With that, she was off.

Clark continued to shrivel under Lex's gauging stare as endless moments of silence passed. Finally, Lex spoke. "Tell me about your dream."

Deep breath. "We were in a field... in Scotland, but I'm not sure how I know that."

"Why were we there?"

"I'm not really sure. But it felt like something had led up to it, like tuning in halfway through a movie, you know?"

Lex softened his tone. "Go on."

"What was so strange about it was that everything was different but the same. I mean, you weren't you and I'm pretty sure I wasn't me, and at the same time, we were. Everything was so familiar." Clark smiled as his friend's interest was obviously piqued.

"Who were we?"

"I think I may have been a witch or something. I had... power."

"What kind of power?"

"I don't know exactly. But you asked me to show you magick and it sounded completely reasonable."

Lex took a moment to swallow this. Then he nodded his head, prompting Clark to continue.

"You were a knight." Clark saw the image enter Lex's head as his face lit up, finally cracking the cool exterior.

"A knight? You mean like in a suit of armor?"

"Well, actually, I-- uh... yeah, a suit of armor." Clark blushed at his near slip.

"How did I look?" Lex asked sarcastically.

Beautiful. "Definitely different. You had hair for one thing. Dark brown, almost black. And your face was different..."

"Clark, it's beginning to sound like this dream wasn't even about me."

"No, it was! That's what I mean with everything being the same and different. We were different people, but our connection was still there, our friendship just as strong." With a few not-so-unpleasant benefits.

Lex gave Clark one of his infuriatingly ambiguous looks. "Coming from anyone else, this would sound insane. But you have a funny way of making anything seem possible, Kent."

Clark rested his hand on Lex's and gently stroked it with his thumb. "Anything _is_ possible, Lex."

Those icy eyes rested on their hands, then shifted to Clark's face, looking skeptical. _Ah, youth, _they seemed to say. _The beauty of a promise that can never be kept._

Clark squeezed the hand, trying to will away Lex's doubt. He bore into Lex's stare with a look of such commitment, honesty, and adoration that he thought he felt Lex's hand begin to tremble. At length, Lex broke eye contact and quickly pulled his hand away.

"It's been enlightening, Clark, as always."

Clark bowed his head. "And you're leaving."

"If I had any choice, you know I wouldn't." He gave Clark one last look and got up to leave.

__

Never say goodbye, Clark thought. Something Lex had said at the beginning of their friendship. Much better to part on an unresolved note so as to avoid awkward beginnings upon the next meeting.

Clark always thought the real reason was Lex's fear of abandonment. What Lex didn't realize is that Clark would give up his own soul before abandoning his best friend.

He watched Lex walk to the door and looked back down at the table. What he saw there brought a smile to his face. Before Lex went outside, Clark called out to him.

"Sir Lex!"

Lex turned around, baffled, as did several other customers. Clark noticed not one of them as he ran to Lex's side.

"Clark, what the--"

"Your horse, fair knight." Clark opened his hand, revealing Lex's car keys.

Lex squinted his eyes and chuckled seductively. "Methinks ye pilfered them by magick, young witch."

Clark tapped the tip of his nose, smiled, and turned to go back to the table. He felt Lex watching him for a few more seconds before finally leaving.

Taking advantage of the silence to go over everything that was said in his mind, Clark took a sip of his lukewarm latte. Grimacing, he pushed it away and rested his chin on his arms in front of him, beginning the ritual that commenced after every conversation he had with Lex Luthor. The ritual of analyzing every last inconsistency in Lex's voice, body language, and general demeanor, trying to figure out if they meant what he hoped, or if he was just seeing what he wanted to see.

What he didn't know was that a certain stylish, bald millionaire's son was still standing outside of his car, trembling so violently that he only barely managed to unlock the door. Clark didn't know that said millionaire's son sat in said car for another five minutes, going through his own ritual, the Post Kent as he liked to call it. And after the day's conversation, there was plenty to go over. Wondering, hoping, needing, his hand and face still tingling where he had been touched. A touch so loving and so warm that Lex silently thanked himself for the umpteenth time for coming up with the "never say goodbye" bit. 

He was sure Clark figured that it was just his way with everyone. But it was actually a recent creation, a sort of emergency exit for when things with the angelic and painfully naive farmboy became too intense. An easy out for when Mr. Bald and Stylish felt his mask of ambiguous detachment beginning to slip, and the needy Clarkoholic at risk of being exposed. Which, obnoxiously, was becoming more and more frequent.

With a sigh, he started the car and sped away.

__

Fair knight, indeed, he thought sadly.

****

TBC


	2. The First Half

Title: The First Half

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 2

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

Feedback: Keep it coming.

__

**********

I don't know why I bother, Lex thinks. _The boy can clearly save himself. He doesn't need me._

But he is secretly happy that his love let himself be caught. There is something so hopelessly romantic about being able to ride in on his horse and save the young witch from certain doom, and he is certain Clark feels the same way.

__

Clark. Lex is slightly disconcerted by the name. As far as he can remember, that is the name of his young partner in crime, and still, it doesn't seem to fit.

Lex is distracted from these thoughts by a startling gust of wind, so strong that he has to tighten his grip on the reins and lightly squeeze his thighs together to keep the horse under control. Under the pressure of the oncoming storm, his armor feels even heavier than normal and he curses the burden of having to wear it at all.

But he knows he must blend in to get into the courtyard and eventually to the prison where his lover is being held.

As he crosses the drawbridge, he smiles at the chaos going on around him. As predicted, the horses have all been spooked by the sudden wind, and the men can't decide whether to tend to their frantic animals or to their haphazard contraptions of war that are swiftly falling to pieces.

Lex casually, though somewhat hurriedly, rides through the yard, dodging a few disembodied scraps of wood, and finally arriving at the pathetic shack they call a prison. The walls are made of stone and the floor is simple dirt. The main entrance is not even a door so much as a crude opening, and Lex ducks his head as he rides through.

Clomping slowly down the narrow aisle, he cringes as hairy, toothless, and no doubt diseased men yell at him from either side. They rattle their cups along the bars and laugh at his armor. Some even spit at the horse's feet.

At the end of the row on the right, he sees a small warm glow. He speeds up toward the last cell and what he sees makes his heart skip.

On the dirt floor is a small circle, inside which are many primitive and undecipherable symbols. Sitting next to the drawing is Lex's young love, holding a small glowing crystal tightly as he chants with his eyes closed.

"So beautiful," Lex whispers. Clark stops chanting but does not open his eyes. "This enchanted creature before me can make even the dullest surroundings seem lavish and the basest of linen as smooth as fine silk."

Without opening his eyes, Clark responds. "Is this, then, my knight, come at last to lift me from this place?"

Lex steps off his horse just as Clark stands and opens his eyes. The yelling and racket from the other cells ceases, as if even convicted criminals can sense the importance of this reunion. Lex puts his hands on the bars and silently pleads and Clark joins him, placing his own hands over the metal gloves of his lover, and they share a soft, tempting kiss.

Clark slowly breaks away, closing his eyes to concentrate. The light of the crystal sputters as if running out of energy, and Lex hears the lock of the cell click. Clark opens his eyes once more and smiles as Lex opens the door and fully embraces his love, lifting him off his feet.

"We have to go," Clark whispers against his ear. "The wind is slowing."

Without another word, Lex helps him onto the horse, and then gets on in front of him.

They exit the dark prison, and as though a spell has been lifted, the prisoners resume their ragged screams, this time even louder than before. Lex feels the first spark of panic in his stomach as he realizes that things outside have calmed down considerably and the prisoners' words are completely audible.

"Ah, see the traitor!"

"Jail break! Jail break!"

"He's making off with the warlock!"

Several knights turn to Lex, mystified. Understanding visibly dawns on them when they see Clark. Before the panic has a chance to rise to his throat, Lex kicks the sides of his horse and they're off to the drawbridge. 

"Stop him!"

The knights clamor for their weapons. There is no time to mount their horses and unsheathe their swords, so they grab their bows and arrows.

Lex struggles not to squint his eyes in anticipation of a hit when he hears the twang of the bows letting go. None of the arrows connect, however, and he starts to understand why when he hears Clark chanting faintly next to his ear. He risks a look back and sees that all the arrows being shot at them are just as quickly blown off course by another fierce wind.

He smiles at Clark, but is immediately worried at the fear on his young lover's face. Clark is still chanting but the crystal is visibly fading in his hands, clearly on the brink of lifelessness, and the men are getting closer.

Lex looks forward again and spurs the horse on. He lets out a cry of both victory and exasperation as they cross the drawbridge and head out into the open field. But before he can change his course for the safety of the trees, he hears a _TWANG! THUMP!_

The horse jerks beneath them and Clark cries out. Lex looks back and sees that one of the arrows has connected with the horse's backside, to the right of his tail.

"Lex, I'm sorry! I tried--"

"It's okay!" Lex responds as he pushes his horse to keep going. "We can take care of him when we stop. It isn't serious."

Another arrow zooms past Lex's ear and he nearly loses his balance. Clark works up his concentration to continue the chant, but is obviously shaken as his eyes begin to well up with tears.

The horse jerks again and they both cry out.

"It must have been a rock," Clark says. "I don't see another arrow. The men are too far behind now."

Lex thinks about this, trying to figure out what isn't adding up, when the horse jerks again, this time stumbling and throwing them both to the ground.

"Damn it!"

Clark crawls to Lex's side. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's this stupid armor. It's going to kill me before it ever saves my life."

They laugh softly and Clark loses himself in the moment, lightly caressing Lex's face. He tenses up at a harsh grinding behind him and they turn around to see the horse still lying on his side, panting.

"Oh, God," Lex mutters as he gets up.

"Lex, what is it?"

"A poisoned arrow."

The horse's breathing becomes more labored and finally stops. Clark kisses his hand and touches the horse's face, still holding back his own tears. Lex rubs his back soothingly. "At least he got us away from the men."

Before the thought is finished, they hear yelling as the knights run over the hill toward them. Clark is filled with a blind rage at the sight of them, and he throws his arms heavenward screaming. Lex turns to the witch, startled, and sees fire reflected in his eyes as the span of ground between themselves and the knights explodes, spewing red-orange flames and black smoke.

**********

"You're busy. I'll come back later."

Lex looked up from the report he was only half-reading and saw Clark standing in front of the desk with his hands in his pockets.

__

He says he'll come back later, and yet he just stands there looking hopeful. Curious.

"Nonsense, Clark. Why put off till tomorrow what you can do the day after?"

Clark gave Lex a look of nervous confusion.

"Sit, Clark." The younger boy brightened visibly, and pulled a chair up to the desk. Lex hated for Clark to be uncomfortable, but something about the way the boy fidgeted during a silence made his toes curl. He sat back and watched the show begin.

First, Clark took a look around him as if it was his first time in Lex's study, seeming to take every last rafter into account. Next, his hands began their dance, and he looked at the desk, grabbing the first thing he saw to occupy them. Which just so happened to be one of Lex's infamous blue water bottles. Lex decided to start talking before he started giggling.

"How was school, Clark?"

"Phallic. Uh, I-I mean fine!"

Clark blushed, looking for all the world like Smallville's sexiest tomato, and quickly put down the bottle.

"Good, good." Lex took a quiet breath and tried to pretend his next question was a friendly joke and not a desperate inquiry. "So. Have anymore dreams?"

Clark's smile abruptly disappeared. His blush deepened and he shook his head, lowering his eyes like he'd just been yelled at.

__

Oh, God. He thinks I'm making fun of him.

"Well... I did."

"What?" Clark asked, his voice drenched with hurt.

"I had a dream. About you."

__

Like a goddamn light switch, Lex thought as Clark flashed his most brilliant smile that day. He practically jumped out of his chair and walked to Lex's side of the desk to kneel down next to him. Lex forgot what he was going to say as he dropped into the warmth of Clark's eyes, the closeness of his scent, until Clark reminded him.

"Well?"

"Oh, um, yeah. The dream."

"Yeah," Clark whispered, resting his hand on Lex's thigh.

Lex took a turn jumping out of his own chair and sped over to the couch. He leaned on the edge partly to hide the unsteadiness of his legs, and partly to hide his growing... excitement.

"Lex?" Clark's voice was concerned as he stayed in his spot next to the chair.

"I, uh, I think we should move to the couch. You know, so you can be a little more comfortable."

"It's okay. I'm comfortable on my knees."

Lex silently thanked the Gods of Badly-Timed Freudian Slips that he hadn't been sipping coffee during that statement.

"I... mean... not on my knees! Just on my knees for you. No! I mean you were talking and I was really interested so I came over and there wasn't another chair so I had to go down. I-I mean *get* down!"

"Clark."

"Huh?"

"Couch."

"Okay."

Clark sat on the couch obediently and Lex sat next to him.

"So," Lex started.

"So?" Clark replied.

"Should we get back to the dream?"

The raven-haired boy smiled at the change of subject. "Yeah. Tell me every detail."

__

If only I could, Lex thought. "Okay," he said aloud, "but first, I want to bring up something you said in our last conversation."

"Look, if it's about the whole 'crabs' thing, I can totally explain--"

"About your dream, Clark." Lex pushed back another giggling fit at the adorably strained expression on Clark's face.

"Ah," was the sheepish reply.

"You said it was like tuning in halfway through a movie."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I think I caught the first half."

Clark's eyes widened. "Your dream was like mine?"

"My dream _was_ yours! I mean, they were about different events, but everything was exactly as you described it. I was the gallant knight, you were the powerful witch, and the landscape definitely had a Scottish look to it. We were still us, but different, just like you said!" Lex pulled his feet up underneath him in his excitement and Clark laughed. "What?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you this animated."

"I took a lot of psychology classes in college. This kind of thing is fascinating to me." _In addition to the fact that I'm discussing a dream I had about Clark *with* Clark. If he could see through me, he would probably find my intestines wrapped around my heart._

"So?" Clark asked, gesturing.

"Hmm?" Lex responded.

"The dream, Lex!"

"Oh! Right! So I was riding into some kind of courtyard where you were being held prisoner. For practicing witchcraft, I would guess. And as soon as I got there, a huge wind came, distracting everyone so I could get through."

Clark's eyes lit up in recognition, but he kept his mouth shut.

"I got to the prison and I wanted to vomit. It was dark and dirty and I won't even get into what it smelled like. But then, at the very end of the row, I found you."

"What did I look like?" Clark asked, pulling up his own feet and inching closer to Lex.

__

...this enchanted creature before me...

"Different..."

"Yeah?"

"Completely different. I mean physically speaking, it just wasn't you. Your hair was blond. And your face was a little longer, and your eyes were a different color. But it was you. Nobody else could give me that 'Clark' look."

"Clark look?

"It's just a look you give me." Lex thought of just leaving it at that, but decided to go on. "I can't describe it. It's not really a facial expression. More of a glimmer. Something behind your eyes that I only see in you."

Clark smiled, touched.

Lex went on with his story. He told of the escape from the prison, the death of his horse, and the explosion.

"Why was I so mad? It was just a horse."

"Well, for one thing, it was our fastest way out of there. Also, I've read a lot about Wicca. Those who practice it have a very deep respect for the earth and all of its creatures. So the killing of an innocent horse would have infuriated you."

The younger boy's eyes glazed over as he seemed to pull into himself, contemplative.

"I'm sorry, Clark. I didn't meant to bore you with a history lesson."

"No, it's okay," Clark said, touching Lex's hand. "I like to hear you talk about stuff."

"Stuff?"

"No matter what we're talking about, you always tie it in with something historical. You're just so smart. I... I sometimes wonder why you waste your time with me."

Lex pulled closer until their knees were touching and he took Clark's hand in both of his own. "You could never be a waste of my time. Ever, Clark. Every moment that I'm with you, every second that I get to share in your light, I consider a gift greater than my own life."

Clark lowered his eyes, but not before Lex saw what he thought were the beginnings of tears. He gently pulled Clark's face back up by the chin as he brought Clark's hand to his heart.

"I mean it, Clark," he whispered.

A tear ran down Clark's cheek and he made no move to stop it. He moved his hand from Lex's heart to his lips to continue the soft exploration he had started the day before.

Lex got up onto his knees and put his hand on the back of Clark's head, ever so gently pulling him closer. Their faces were within inches of each other and Lex felt his pulse beating in his neck as Clark's shuddering breaths tickled his lips, promising an enveloping sweetness to come.

Their open mouths brushed so lightly that it could have been a dream or fantasy. Just as Lex steeled himself to make it real... the phone rang, startling them away from each other.

"God," Lex muttered.

They shared an awkward moment as the phone continued to ring.

"You going to get that?" Clark finally inquired.

Lex sighed heavily and crossed to the phone.

"Hello?" He said, annoyed. But his voice brightened when he realized who it was. "Oh, hi! Yes, yes, he's right here. Just a minute."

Lex turned back to Clark. His heart sank as he saw the boy standing, the tear wiped away, and a forced look of normalcy on his face, obviously wanting to forget what had almost happened.

"The phone's for you, Clark," he stated.

Clark replied with a curt nod and walked to Lex to take the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Finally, I found you!" It was Martha. "Clark, just what do you think you're doing at Lex's place?"

"Nothing! We, uh, we were just talking, Mom."

"Well, while you and Lex are 'just talking' your father is nearly breaking his back trying to get all the chores done before we leave."

"You're leaving?"

"Metropolis, Clark!"

The light turned on. "Oh, my God, Mom, I completely forgot! I'm so sorry, I'll be home in two seconds!"

He hung up the phone and turned to Lex.

"Pressing engagement, Clark?"

"My parents are going to Metropolis for the weekend and I was supposed to help my dad finish the chores before they leave."

"Don't let me keep you."

Clark smiled shyly and started for the door. He stopped at the threshold and turned back, his eyes twinkling. "Hey, Lex? Maybe... if you wanted to come over later, after my parents leave... you know, for pizza or something."

Lex smiled at the thought of eating out of a cardboard box.

__

But with Clark...

"Sure. Give me a call when they ship out."

"Okay," Clark said softly. "Goodb--

"Don't say it, Clark," Lex cut in with a wink.

"Okay." The younger boy nodded, then quickly exited.

As the door closed, Lex turned to his desk and collapsed onto his hands. He felt the heat rush to his face as he finally let his heart begin to pound.

He knew that with anyone else, the near kiss would have been a giant leap in the right direction, a sign that his feelings were returned.

__

But Clark is so young. He doesn't want me, he looks up to me.

Outside, Clark took one last look up at the stained-glass window of Lex's study, then started his lightning run home.

__

He feels the same way! Clark thought, laughing aloud. _And tonight, we won't be interrupted. _


	3. Quiet Moments

Title: Quiet Moments

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 3

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

Pairing: Clark/Lex

Spoilers: The movie Clue.

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long. College life is kicking my ass! And thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I'm so glad you all like this and I hope you continue to tell me what you think!

**********

Clark held his face under the hot water, letting the dirt and sweat of the afternoon's work run off his body in streaming rivulets. He had worked faster than ever before and was now making sure that every square inch of his body was immaculate for Lex.  
  
_But what if he doesn't want me to be immaculate? _Clark thought. _Maybe he likes it dirty…  
_  
Before he had time to elaborate on that thought, he heard a harsh knocking on the door that nearly caused him to cry out.  
  
"Clark, honey?"  
  
"What is it, Mom?"  
  
"We're leaving now. I left the phone number to the hotel and the restaurant on the fridge if you need anything."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"And Clark?" It was his father.  
  
"Yeah, Dad?"  
  
"No parties, okay? Your mother's china supply is diminished enough from the last time."  
  
"I promise, Dad. No parties." _If you don't count a private party of two,_ Clark thought giddily.  
  
The Kents exchanged their goodbyes and Martha and Jonathan left for Metropolis, finally leaving Clark on his own.

He finished up his shower and went to his room to get dressed. With his towel hanging loosely from his hips, he stood in front of his closet trying to push down the panic rising in his stomach about what he should wear.

"Just chill, Kent," he muttered to himself. "It's just Lex. He's seen every outfit you own a hundred times."

But Lex hadn't come over to Clark's house to watch movies a hundred times, not with the knowledge that Clark's parents would be gone all night, and certainly not with the knowledge of a recurring romantic dream looming overhead.

__

Romantic for me, anyway, Clark reminded himself. _There's no guarantee Lex's dream had anything to do with mine. Probably just some weird coincidence._

Clark pushed these thoughts away as he decided on a pair of jeans and a blue v-neck T-shirt. Inspecting his appearance in the full length mirror on his closet door, he decided the combination was perfect. On first glance, it was relaxed and laid back. But on a closer look, which he was almost sure Lex would be giving him, it revealed all of his curves just enough to be interesting.

With one last glance, he headed down the stairs to make sure everything was ready. True, a night of pizza and movies didn't need a lot of preparation, but he wanted it to perfect for Lex.

"Okay," he said as he nervously exhaled. "Here goes nothing."

He wiped the sweat off of his palms and picked up the phone to dial Lex's cell. Lex picked up halfway through the first ring.

"I've been waiting," Lex said.

"Hi, Lex! It's me, Clark," Clark said happily.

Lex paused. "I know, Clark. I just said I've been waiting."

"Oh, right." The blush was evident in the tone of Clark's voice. "So, um, my parents are gone so you can come over any time you're ready."

"Sounds good. I'll be there as soon as I can," Lex answered with slight hesitancy.

"Well, take your time. I mean, go ahead and finish up your work and everything," Clark stated, sounding a little disappointed.

"Clark, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"It's okay, Lex. I believe you. I guess I'll see you when you get here then?"

"Not a minute later." With that, Lex hung up.

Sighing, Clark put the cordless phone back in its cradle and walked to the living room where he landed on the couch with a thud. He knew he had no right being upset. Lex was a very busy man and Clark couldn't just expect him to drop everything for a stupid get-together with a high school junior. But still...

There was a loud knock at the front door and Clark's stomach tensed up in fear.

__

Shit! Mom and Dad forgot something! What if Lex shows up while they're here?!

He ran to the door, cursing his inability to think of a good reason for not telling them that Lex was coming over. He opened the door, ready to let anything spill out of his mouth.

But the first thing out of his mouth was a string of nonsensical noises as he realized the person at the door was Lex.  
  
Lex laughed. "Nice to see you too, Clark."  
  
In Clark's flustered mind, he reasoned that the only way a person could get from one place to another this fast would be on their own two feet. He failed to remember, however, that this reasoning only applied to himself, and out of his mouth tumbled the words "Did you run all the way over here?"  
  
"I told you I'd get here as soon as I could," Lex replied, looking slightly confused.  
  
Eventually Clark's mind caught up with him and he blushed ferociously. "I mean… how did you get here so fast?"  
  
Lex held up his cell phone. "I was about a block away when you called."  
  
Clark smiled, catching on. "You tricked me!"  
  
"I did no such thing!" Lex retaliated. "You just assumed that I would be late."  
  
"Well, you knew what I was assuming, and you didn't bother to tell me otherwise."  
  
"Okay, fine. I mislead you. But it was worth it to see the look on your face."  
  
Clark's blush deepened. "I thought you were my parents. I didn't want you to show up while they were still here."  
  
"Oh." Lex lowered his eyes, his smile fading.  
  
"No, Lex… I mean they wouldn't mind you being here. I just… well, I kind of want you to myself."  
  
Lex brought his eyes back to Clark's as if searching for the truth in that statement. Clark merely smiled back at him warmly.  
  
"But I'm being a terrible host, aren't I? Come in." Clark squeezed Lex's shoulder gently and led him into the house. As soon as Lex was inside, he started toward the kitchen.

"Do you have any ice, Clark?"

"In the fridge. Why?"

Clark came through the door behind Lex just as Lex was pulling a bottle of champagne out of his jacket.

"Lex!"

"What?"

"Pizza, remember?"

"Of course. I just thought since you're giving me a new experience, I would give you one too."

Clark blinked in disbelief. "Do you mean to tell me you've never ordered pizza before?"

"Don't tell me that surprises you."

"Well, yeah, a little bit. But I guess it shouldn't." Clark glanced at the bottle sitting on the table. "Lex, I'm not old enough to drink."

"I know," Lex nodded. "But it's not like I'm sneaking you into a bar or anything. I figured since we're in a private place it wouldn't be a big deal."

"Oh, it's not," Clark said. "My parents always let me have a sip of champagne on New Year's. Besides, we can't get drunk off one bottle."

Lex smiled in reply. 

"I'll go order the pizza." Clark opened the phone book and starting running his finger down a page. As he was dialing, Lex noticed a bag from the video store on the counter.

"What movies did you get, Clark?"

"Take a look for yourself."

Lex walked to the bag as Clark started to order a pizza with what had to be the most frightening combination of toppings imaginable. He blocked out the sound of the younger boy's voice and pulled out a video.

"Clue?" he muttered. "Isn't that a board game?"

**********

About a half hour later, they were seated at the couch, leaning over the coffee table. Lex was nervously picking up his first slice of pizza as Clark was nervously pouring himself a glass of champagne. He took a small sip from the goblet and shuddered as the sparkling liquid tickled his throat. He looked up to make sure Lex hadn't seen this and was relieved to see that Lex was too busy examining the slice intently, as if planning his attack. Taking another sip, Clark willed himself to keep a straight face as the tang spread over his taste buds.

"I feel like I should have lit some candles," he said, holding up the goblet.

"What?" Lex continued to turn the slice around in his hands.

Clark stifled a laugh. "What the hell are you doing, Lex?"

"Clark, I can't even tell what half of these toppings are, let alone what they'll do to my body when eaten at the same time. I'm simply trying to locate a sparsely populated area of the cheese to begin with, and then maybe I'll progress from there."

Clark laughed out loud this time. "Oh, for God's sake, Lex! It's not rocket science, it's pizza!"

He demonstrated by picking up a slice for himself, jamming it into his mouth and consuming almost half of it in one bite. "See?" he said through a mouthful, "how hard was that?"

Looking more frightened than before, Lex put his slice back into the box. "I think I'm going to need a little more courage for this." He grabbed the other goblet and poured some champagne for himself.

"Come on, Lex! I thought we were experiencing new things tonight. Look, I'm being a good sport." Lex watched Clark down the rest of his glass. The younger boy's face went rigid as he fought the urge to pucker at the shock of alcoholic flavor.

Lex snorted. "Nice try, farmboy." 

"Well, at least I'm trying at all. Now eat."

Giving Clark a look of reluctant compliance, Lex put down his glass and picked up his slice. He examined it one more time, then threw caution to the wind, shoving it into his mouth as Clark had done. He ignored Clark's spurt of laughter as he squeezed his eyes shut and chewed as fast as he could, the texture startling him as much as the taste.

At last, he swallowed and opened his eyes. Clark looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

Lex blinked. "My God, that was delicious!"

"All right!" Clark yelled, clapping his hands. He handed Lex his glass and refilled his own. "To trying new things," he said.

Lex touched his glass to Clark's and they both downed their champagne. 

"Whew!" Clark exclaimed, making what was possibly the funniest bitter-beer face Lex had ever seen. Hearing Lex's laughter, Clark poured some more and said, "No, wait. I think I'm getting used to it."

He put the glass to his mouth, but Lex put a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Hey, not so fast, Clark. You're going to be stumbling around before we even start the movie."

Clark's eyes smiled and he put down the glass. "You're right. I'll just go make some popcorn."

"I'll come with you." Lex started to stand, but Clark playfully pushed him back to the couch. 

"No, you don't. You stay right there and finish your pizza, young man."

Lex squinted his eyes in mock defiance, then picked up the rest of his piece and shoved it in his mouth. "Happy?" he said with puffed out cheeks.

"Yup," Clark nodded triumphantly. "Be right back."

Lex watched Clark walk to the kitchen, swaying ever so slightly and steadying himself on the wall as he giggled softly.

__

Shit, Lex thought. _I'm drinking with the world's heaviest lightweight._

Although the idea of being at the mercy of a sloppy and uninhibited Clark had its appeal.

As he heard the microwave start up, Lex sat back with his champagne, closing his eyes as he pushed his shoes off onto the floor. Truth be told, he hadn't eaten all day and he was starting to feel a slight buzz himself. He took a deep breath and let the tension of the week leave his body. He remained in this position even as Clark came back into the living room and set the bowl of popcorn next to the pizza. 

Clark sat down, resting his arm on the back of the couch, and just watched Lex; the rise and fall of his stomach, the strong line of his jaw, clenching and unclenching softly.

Lex opened his eyes and noticed that he was being watched, but didn't say anything. He felt too comfortable to the break the silence, and they remained that way for a while longer. Clark took a swallow of his drink and noticed the taste getting duller. Then he looked back at Lex.

"I wonder if we were this comfortable before," he said thoughtfully.

Lex turned to look at him. "I'm sorry?"

"I feel so safe with you," Clark said, grinning shyly. "Even just sitting here is enough. I wonder if things were like that in Scotland."

"Clark, we were never _in_--" Lex started to protest, but upon Clark's expression, decided to play along. "I'm sure we had our quiet moments in between adventures."

Clark's smile widened as he thought of rolling around with Lex in the field. It all seemed so real and intimate. He continued to watch Lex, who drained his glass and closed his eyes again. Finally breaking from the calm they had found, Clark grabbed the movie and stuck it in the VCR. 

__

There's plenty of time to make my move, he reminded himself. _It doesn't have to be right now._

But on his way back to Lex's side, he hiccupped loudly and started to wonder if he was going to get any serious moments in before he was completely plastered.

**********

"Oh, come on, Clark! We've seen it three times!"

"Just once more!" Clark pleaded as tears of laughter streamed down his face. "It's my favorite part!"

"Fine."

Lex handed the remote control back to Clark, who proceeded to rewind the tape to his favorite part. Lex couldn't help but smile at the twitching of Clark's lips in his anticipation. 

He pushed Play and for the fourth time, they watched Madeline Kahn walk to the bottom of the stairs and say "Yes. Yes, I did it. I killed Yvette. I hated her... SO much! It-it, the fe-- it... flames, flames. Flames... on the side of my face. Breathing-- breathle-- heaving breaths... Heaving..."

Again, Clark doubled over in laughter, this time tumbling completely off of the couch. He pushed his face into a cushion and let his butt stick up in the air as he pounded the floor. "She's a comic genius!!!" he yelled, his speech slurred.

Lex chuckled gently to himself, enjoying the sheer pleasure Clark was getting out of this. Glancing at the empty wine bottle and several empty beer cans on the coffee table, he wondered if Clark would be this hysterical if he were sober. But with another glance at Clark's protruding backside, he decided he didn't care.

Still laughing, Clark got up from the floor and turned off the movie. He walked back around the coffee table to the couch, lost his footing, and ended up directly in Lex's lap.

"Clark!" Lex started, sitting up.

"Watch that first step!" Clark hollered through his laughter. "It's a floozy!!!"

"Doozy, Clark," Lex grunted, shifting uncomfortably.

"Mmm, don't mind if I do. Where's my beer?" Clark asked, reaching to the coffee table without leaving Lex's lap. He violently shook several empty beer cans before Lex grabbed his arms and held them to his own chest.

"Clark?" he said quietly.

"Yeah?" Clark asked, mimicking his tone.

"You're dripping beer all over the carpet."

"Yeah?" Clark repeated.

"Don't you think your parents will be a little upset to know you're drinking without their supervision?"

"Yeah." Clark stated, nodding his head matter-of-factly. He let his arms go limp against Lex and put his head down on Lex's shoulder. Lex shivered as Clark's hair tickled his neck.

"Uh, Clark?"

"Hmmm?" Clark said sleepily.

"You're uh… on my lap."  
  
"Mmm-hmm," Clark breathed.  
  
Lex decided to take a risk and put his arms around Clark's lower back, holding him tighter. It paid off when Clark tightened his legs on either side of Lex and burrowed into his neck.  
  
"Clark?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Not that this isn't nice, but why are you on my lap?"  
  
Clark laughed softly. "I just thought we'd make ourselves comfortable and talk about the first thing that pops up."  
  
Lex tensed up, knowing that Clark would realize his slip eventually, leading to endless awkward and extremely endearing apologies.  
  
But Clark didn't apologize. The tone of his voice had been almost suggestive, as if he knew exactly what he was saying.  
  
_But that's not possible, _Lex thought. _Clark doesn't think that way_.  
  
"What's the matter, Lex?"  
  
"Uh, what?"  
  
"Why'd you go all… hard?"  
  
_Oh, God. Here it comes._  
  
But again, Clark didn't try to smooth over the innuendo. He sat up so that he could look directly into Lex's eyes, and the expression on Clark's face was unmistakable.  
  
"Clark, I…"  
  
"Shhh." Clark put his finger on Lex's lips, tracing his thumb over the outline once again. "It's okay."  
  
He leaned in slowly in an attempt to recreate the kiss they had come so close to sharing just hours earlier. Lex closed his eyes as he felt the heat of Clark's presence nearing him, and an eternity of anticipation seemed to drag by.  
  
"Lex…" Clark whispered, sending a shock of warm, alcohol-scented breath across Lex's lips.  
  
"Uh?" Lex breathed in reply, his eyelids fluttering.

"Please..." the younger boy's lips barely brushed against Lex's, only a few maddening millimeters away.

"Anything, Clark," Lex promised unabashedly, his tipsy state ridding him of his inhibitions. 

"I need..."

"Name it," Lex said a little louder as he struggled for the control not to take immediate possession of Clark's mouth.

"I need--"

"Clark, please!"

"I...

Without continuing further, Clark's face became a dark blur in Lex's eyes as their lips were finally closing in to meet. Lex closed his eyes and held his breath, feeling every muscle in his body tighten with need, and Clark's forehead rested against his own.

But just as Lex was tilting his head back to receive his kiss, Clark's forehead slid off Lex's and to the side. His face fell onto Lex's shoulder with a dull thump. And he wasn't breathing.

Lex patted Clark on the back, gently at first, then harder when Clark didn't respond. He panicked as he realized he was pinned to the couch under the weight and there was no way for him to get help.

"Clark? Clark, what's wrong? Clark, wake up!"

Lex looked around for some way of helping his friend. He thought of screaming, but he knew the closest neighbors were about a mile away. Besides, any of the locals catching him in such a compromising position with a minor could cause quite a few problems to say the least. Then another idea came to him.

He kicked at the coffee table where he had dropped his cell phone. He couldn't reach it with his foot, but he kept kicking, hoping the vibrations of the table would scoot the phone closer. It moved forward slightly, but just as it was within an inch of his toes, one of the half empty beer cans tipped over, soaking it.

"Goddamn it!"

He was actually slapping Clark's back at that point, cursing loudly at having to strike his love. He was just about to cry out again when Clark took a sudden forceful breath in through his mouth, expanding his back under Lex's hand.

"Clark?" Lex asked cautiously.

Clark breathed out just as loudly in response, and accompanying his next breath in was a soft throaty snore. Lex let his own head fall back in a mixture of relief and frustration as understanding crept through his mind; Clark had passed out.

Lex took a moment to let his heart slow down. He was instantly soothed by the sound of Clark's breath, but he couldn't ignore the panic he had felt at the prospect of losing him. Until that moment, he hadn't fully understood the depth of his feelings and, in turn, the danger of this situation. He knew that getting involved with Clark would be a risky if not impossible venture, and he couldn't put his young love through that.

He made up his mind to talk to Clark as soon as he woke up. They had to stop the trouble before it started.

But presently, the soft snores at his ear were lulling him to sleep, despite his upright position. As if sensing his discomfort, Clark shifted to the right, inadvertently pushing Lex down onto his back. Clark was now on top of him, still snoring as their legs softly intertwined.

Feeling warmer and more secure than he could ever remember feeling, Lex was finding it nearly impossible to keep his eyes open. He decided to allow himself this one last night with Clark. But after that, it had to end.

__

As soon as he wakes up, Lex promised himself sleepily.


	4. Of Birds and Booze

Title: Of Birds and Booze

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 4

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

Feedback: Always appreciated.

A/N: Okay, this is kind of ridiculous. I haven't touched this story in over five years. I hope that those of you who wanted it to continue don't hate me too much to keep reading. And those of you who are new to the story… Well, I'm a bad person who doesn't finish what he starts and you should probably just turn away. ;) If you're still here, then read on!

Just a reminder: This story still lives somewhere in an AU season 2. Five years have passed for us. Several days have passed for them. :D

* * *

Clark stares at his blood-stained palms as though by concentrating hard enough, he can erase the stain of what just happened here. But even with his powers at full strength, which they certainly are not, he wouldn't be able to restore a life. A life that he had just taken.

The middle-aged man lies now at Clark's feet, his green hood thrown back revealing a slashed throat and a gaping mouth stuck in an O of surprise. His eyes gaze heavenward, dimly reflecting the twinkling stars above and seeing nothing. Clark feels an urgent desire to close those eyes and give the poor man some dignity. Or maybe he is convinced that if they stay open much longer, they will roll over in the lifeless skull and burn into Clark's guilty heart accusingly.

Terrifying himself with a line of similar dark thoughts, he finally decides that running away is his only option. His first destination will need to be the river than runs twenty yards away from here. He gets there in no time and washes as much of the blood from his hands as he can. Then he leans over the cool water and splashes it into his face, gasping as the chill seems to pull him out of a trance. With his mind clear, a dark and wretched spasm crawls through his stomach as the reality of his predicament sets in.

He gets onto his feet and heads swiftly down the length of the river, following its rushing waters toward the valley. He has to put as much space between himself and the body as possible before somebody shows up.

_The body,_ he thinks. _What have I done?_

He has to find Lex. He has to tell Lex that he didn't mean for it to happen. It was a moment of desperation and the man was dead before Clark even knew what he was doing.

Clark reaches into his cloak and grips his crystal. It whirs and vibrates in his hand angrily. He pulls it out to see its pulsing white light tarnished beneath a stain of red; he had used the sharp edge of the crystal to defend himself, and he shudders at how easily it had cut through the man's flesh, how easy it had been for Clark to want it to. He knows that the crystal's power will only last a few days longer now that he has defiled that power by using it to take life. With a shudder, he wipes the crystal clean on the outside of his cloak.

Drowning in his troubled thoughts, Clark is not aware of the dozen men tailing him until it is too late. Under any other circumstances, _four_ dozen of the king's men would be lucky to even lay a hand on him, but tonight is different. Clark is distracted by thoughts of his deed and by thoughts of Lex.

_What if he doesn't understand?_ Clark thinks.

He can hardly take a breath to ask himself the question aloud when a thick rope net is thrown over him and closed tightly.

"Murdering witch!" yells one of the men. "You'll hang for what you've done!"

Clark is startled, but he manages to hold onto the crystal and hide it from view. He quickly tries a charm to disarm the men and release him from the ropes, but his concentration is too scattered, and his heart beats too furiously from being startled.

Before he can try again, one of the men brings an enormous mace into view and drops the round spiked head unceremoniously onto Clark's face, and he blacks out.

* * *

Clark woke up with a start, thrashing his arms in the air at the dozen men that he was sure were still surrounding him. But his eyes finally opened and he found himself on the couch in his own living room, swinging his arms through empty air. Suspiciously, he looked around, wondering why he wasn't in his own bed.

It was then that several images of the night before came back to him. Sharing a pizza and a bottle of champagne with Lex, watching a movie and laughing himself silly, feeling more elated than he had in months.

As his mind pressed further through the muddled evening he had spent with his best friend, the images became murkier and more difficult to recall. He giggled softly as he began to vaguely remember sitting in Lex's lap, sure that a kiss was soon to follow. But he couldn't remember anything after that. Had they kissed? Had Lex stopped him? What if Lex had changed his mind in that moment and decided this was all a bad idea? What if after all the champagne and beer Clark had imbibed, his breath had rendered Lex unconscious?!

"Where the hell _is _Lex?" Clark said to the empty room.

He rose from the couch and jogged over to the living room window. Pulling back the curtain, he scanned the driveway and the dirt road leading away from the farm. Lex's car was gone. Which meant that Lex was gone. Not that Clark ever expected a goodbye from Lex, but after the exciting night they had shared, he thought Lex would have said _something._ So that was it then. Lex must have realized he had made a mistake and decided to cut his losses and get out.

Clark slowly walked back to the couch, kicking an empty beer can across the floor as he went, and sat down. He hugged a throw pillow tightly to his chest and buried his face in it miserably.

* * *

When the last bell of the day rang throughout Smallville High, Clark went straight to the Torch where Chloe was expecting him so he could get started on the lunch menu for that month. As usual, Chloe was somehow already in the school's newspaper office clacking away at the keyboard. She didn't seem to notice Clark until he plopped himself down onto the sofa and buried his head in his hands with a melodramatic sigh. The clacking came to a halt.

"Rough weekend?" she asked.

"Oooooooohhhh." Clark intoned affirmatively through his fingers.

"Riiight," Chloe replied with a snort. "Look, Clark, as fascinated as I am to hear the next installment of "Maize of our Lives", I'm afraid you'll have to tell me about it later. Pete is sick, and I need you to take over his piece on the new ergonomic keyboards in the computer lab."

"Maize of our Lives?" Clark asked feebly.

"You know, corn? Since you live on a farm and everything, I thought… Oh, forget it. I'm too busy to be clever right now. I promise we'll get a cup of coffee and talk all about your Lana troubles later, but at the moment we have a deadline to meet, okay?" Chloe's fingers returned to the keyboard.

Clark peeked over his hands which were still blocking his face tragically. "Lana?"

Once again the clacking ceased and this time there was something sinister about the silence left behind. When Chloe spoke again, the thin veneer of patience covering the bumps and cracks of her hassled voice was quickly slipping away.

"I know your parents were in Metropolis this weekend, and judging from your hyperactive behavior last week, I guessed you were planning something big for Lana. So you can play dumb all you want, but if you want to hear my expert advice on the subject, you're going to have to 'fess up sooner or later. Only, do me a favor and make it later. Right now we have to work."

Clark stared at Chloe crookedly, slowly piecing together everything she had said. She stopped typing one more time.

"Clark?"

"Hmm?"

"Work!"

"Oh!"

Doing his best to snap out of his pity party, Clark got up from the sofa and sat down at the desk facing Chloe's. He quickly booted up the second computer and found that Chloe had already left a copy of Pete's notes on the desk next to the hard drive. But instead of looking over the notes and trying to make some kind of cohesive article out of them, Clark absent-mindedly began typing them verbatim.

He had no idea what he was even typing until he got to a point where the color of the ink switched from blue to green and Chloe's handwriting had been inserted.

"I thought this was Pete's article," he said.

"Pete failed to mention the fact that the computer lab has seen three revisions in the last year and a half and the Torch has seen zip," Chloe blurted scathingly.

"Oh." Clark resumed his thoughtless typing.

After another short while, he got too caught up in his thoughts to keep going. He stopped what he was doing and sat back in his seat, pretending to stretch out his wrists. Chloe's typing continued at lightning speed. Restless and impatient, Clark started to lean sideways, peeking his head around his computer until he could see Chloe's face. For a moment, she remained fixated on her screen, but she soon noticed that she was being watched.

"Clark?" she said slowly.

"Yeah?" Clark said back, raising his eyebrows innocently.

"You're not finished are you?"

"No."

"And you heard what I said about the deadline, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"The key word being 'dead.' As in, you will wake up dead if you don't get that article finished on time. Right?"

He paused thoughtfully. "'Wake up dead?'"

"Clark…"

"I would wake up dead?"

"Clark, you know what I meant."

"I mean, I guess I could wake up and die. But if I'm dead, I'm not really going to wake up to figure it out, am I?"

"Can we drop this, please?" Chloe's voice began to rise.

"How could somebody wake up dead? Chloe, I don't think that's even grammatically correct."

"Well, my apologies to Mr. Webster! Now can we please—"

"Unless it's something to do with a meteor freak. We've seen weirder things, right? What if the next psycho high school student we have to deal with is Wake-Up-Dead Boy?!"

"I am not continuing this conversation Clark!"

"Chloe, do you drink beer?"

Chloe's hand slammed onto the desk. "No, Clark, I don't drink beer. But believe me, if there was ever a time I planned to start, it would be right now. What's your deal today?"

"Think about it hypothetically. If you did drink beer, would you want to kiss you?"

Chloe wheeled her chair slightly to the right to get a better look at Clark. She studied his face for a moment.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Do _you _drink beer?"

"What?"

"Or possibly snort cocaine?"

"What? Chloe, no! Of course not!"

"Then what in God's name are you talking about?! Would I want to kiss me? What does that even mean?"

Clark realized he had fudged what he was trying to say and became flustered. "No, Chloe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I mean, do you think someone else would want to kiss you if you had been drinking beer. Does beer make a person unkissable?"

With a deep breath, Chloe hit the save button on her computer and made a beeline for the coffee machine. As she poured a cup she said, "I should have known the second you walked in that I couldn't get out of this one. Clark, why are you asking me this?"

"No reason!" He found a rubber duck among Chloe's eccentric desk ornaments and fidgeted with it nervously. "I just wondered if alcohol is strong or unpleasant on the breath. Say, mixed alcohol. Like, what if you had been drinking beer _and_ champagne. Do you think you would want to kiss you then?"

"Clark, I wouldn't want to kiss me if I was on Ecstasy, okay? Stop asking me if I want to kiss me! It's weird! And where are all the booze questions coming from, anyway, are you planning on getting Lana sloshed or some-- Oh, my God."

"What?!" Clark dropped the decorative rubber duck, and it landed with a soft squeak on the floor.

"Clark Kent, I don't believe you."

"No! I mean, I don't know what you're talking about. What are you talking about?"

"You totally got Lana sloshed!"

"Oh, no. Chloe that's not—that's not even…" Clark got up from his chair and paced the room in nervous circles.

"Yes, you did! You two had the house all to yourselves and you thought you would make Lana a little _easier_ by boozing her up!"

Clark's mouth dropped open. "Chloe, no! It's nothing like that."

"And then when she was three sheets to the wind, you found her so stinky and unattractive that you rejected her! Honestly, Clark, what's gotten into you?"

Clark sat back down in his chair and pulled it closer to Chloe. "You've got it all wrong," he said. "This has nothing to do with Lana, Chloe, I swear."

"You're right, Clark," Chloe said, standing up. "It's about you and whatever is going on in that desperate head of yours. I can only imagine what Lana is thinking right now. If I didn't know better, I would think you're meteor infected."

"Chloe…"

"Oh, God," Chloe interrupted. "You're not meteor infected, are you? Here, let me feel your face."

Chloe leaned down to feel Clark's forehead with the back of her hand. "You don't feel warm."

"Neither did that ice guy, and he was meteor infected," Clark shot sarcastically.

"Clark, come on! This is serious! I've had too many friends pull a Jekyll and Hyde on me, and the longer it goes on, the more danger we're all in. How else can you explain the way you treated Lana?" Chloe half sprinted to her desk to pick up her cell phone.

"I wasn't with Lana this weekend!!!"

Chloe stopped mid step. "What?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you. I haven't seen Lana since last week at the Talon."

"But you said—"

"I said nothing, Chloe. I asked you a couple of hypothetical questions, and you used your _re_ductive reasoning to twist it into something completely fictional."

"_De_ductive reasoning, Clark."

"Wanna bet?" Clark scoffed.

Chloe stood still for a long time. She then straightened her jacket and walked slowly back to the sofa where she sat down and kept her eyes low.

"I'm sorry," she muttered sheepishly.

"I'm sorry?" Clark repeated, holding a hand to his ear as if he couldn't hear her.

"I'm sorry!" Chloe said more loudly. "I let my imagination run away with me, and I'm sorry."

Clark relaxed a bit, sitting back into his chair. "Well, thank you."

Another tense moment went by, and Chloe cleared her throat.

"So… so if those weird questions weren't about Lana, then…"

"I had someone else over this weekend," Clark supplied.

Chloe's eyes went wide. "_Who?_"

"Swear to me. It can't leave this office."

"Sure. Who is it?"

"Swear, Chloe!"

"Clark, I swear! I swear! Tell me, please! I'm losing it here!"

"Okay. I was with—"

_RING RING!!! _Chloe's cell phone jumped and jiggled around her desk, vibrating as it rang loudly, startling both Chloe and Clark.

"Let them leave a message, Chloe, please. I really need you right now."

_RING RING!!!_

"I'm sorry, Clark, I'm waiting for a call from Lex. He's supposed to reschedule his interview." She made for the desk.

"Lex?! Wait, Chloe, don't!!!"

"This will only take a second." Chloe flipped open her cell phone. "Chloe Sullivan. Oh, hi, Lex!"

Clark slipped off of his wheelie chair and landed on the previously discarded rubber duck which promptly emitted a full-bodied squeak. Chloe turned around and whispered forcefully.

"Clark, are you sitting on my duck?"

Clark waved his hands in front of him frantically, mouthing the words, "I'm not here!"

"No, Lex, not you, I was talking to— No, not a real duck, it's just a— No, Lex, I promise this _isn't_ a bad time." She shot a quieting look at Clark. "Yes, I can do the interview whenever you're ready. Yes. That's perfect!"

Chloe clapped her phone shut and picked up her bag, muttering to herself.

"Pete's sick, Clark's crazy, and Lex is unpredictable. They always come in threes."

"The duck makes four," Clark said, rubbing his backside. "Chloe, you can't leave right now. I have to tell you—"

"I'm really sorry, Clark, but I badly need this interview, and someone should stay here to man the fort."

"Chloe, please—"

"I totally owe you one, okay? I'll be back as soon as I can!"

Before Clark could manage another protest, Chloe was gone. Clark sat back down and picked up the half-deflated rubber duck which oddly resembled the way that he felt.

"You still love me, right?" Clark asked the duck, squeezing it gently.

"_Squeeee…_" the duck quietly replied.


	5. Smooch

Title: Smooch

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 5

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

A/N: I'm so glad you all liked the last chapter!

* * *

"I want to thank you again, Lex," Chloe said as she tucked her tape recorder back into her bag, preparing to leave the mansion. "It means so much that you could help me with this. It's important to me to make the Torch more than just a high school gossip rag, and getting an interview with such a prominent figure in our community will really help the paper's credibility." 

Lex grinned in return. The afternoon sun shone through the stained glass window behind where he was seated at his desk, dropping several vivid colors onto his bald head.

"It's no problem," he replied.

"You haven't even spoken to the _Ledger,_" Chloe continued. "I feel so honored to be the first Smallville newspaper you've sat down with."

"Well, let's just say you're the only Smallville reporter I trust to paint a positive picture of me. In case you hadn't noticed, the other papers have done plenty of pieces on my work here in Smallville without the advantage of an actual interview, and they haven't exactly been love letters."

"I can't promise any love letters," Chloe laughed. "But fair and unbiased are my middle names."

She got up and turned toward the door.

"I hope you're not signing your articles 'Chloe F.U. Sullivan,'" Lex quipped.

Chloe turned back to Lex, smiling. "Yeah, I guess I didn't really think that one through, did I?"

"No, not so much," Lex said.

"Well, thank you for showing me the light."

"I do what I can."

Chloe's grin became thoughtful. "You're so much like Clark sometimes," she said mostly to herself, as she started to leave again.

"I'm sorry?" Lex's voice took on a sharper tone.

Chloe shook her head. "Clark teases me like that all the time. All in fun, of course."

"Of course," Lex nodded slowly. Then softly: "He is definitely a tease."

"He's a fruit loop, is what he is," Chloe blurted. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately, but every time he walks into a room, I get a front row seat to an episode of 'Days of Our Livestock.'"

Lex raised his eyebrows. "Days of Our…?"

Chloe looked to the floor, defeated. "I'm never going to get that joke to work, am I? Forget it. I have to go. Clark is waiting for me at the school."

"No, stay!" Lex called a little more desperately than he had intended. "Is everything okay? With Clark, I mean. Is something wrong?"

"You see just as much of him as I do, Lex. Haven't you noticed?"

"I-I've been busy," Lex stammered. _Damn, _he thought. _When did I become such a pathetic liar?_

"Well, between rubber ducks and beer breath, I'm not really sure where to begin," Chloe said, seating herself once more in front of the desk.

Lex blinked several times, at a loss. "I don't know what that means."

"Believe me, you're not the only one," Chloe responded. "Clark has yet to give me a straight answer on any of it. But as much as he protests, I'm sure it has something to do with Lana."

"The rubber duck?"

"No, the beer breath."

"Okay, I'm really lost."

Scooting back from his seat at the desk, Lex made his way over to the bar where he opened a blue bottle of water and drank from it deeply. He kept his eyes averted when he spoke again. "I was beginning to think that Clark was finally moving beyond the Lana scenario."

"If only," Chloe said with an ironic laugh. "Clark hasn't been a drama free zone in quite a while. I miss the days when he wasn't so jumpy and angst-ridden. Not that I mind giving him advice or listening to his problems, but he gets so wrapped up in himself sometimes that it's like I'm not even there."

"But you are giving him advice?" Lex prodded. "He must be telling you enough that you're able to give him advice."

Clearly, Chloe didn't know that Clark and Lex had been getting so close. But she knew something was up, and Lex wanted to see just how much she was aware of. Not so much out of a desire to protect himself, though. It was more that he wanted to know how Clark was doing and was too chicken shit to just call and ask.

Chicken shit. That was a good way to describe it. The way that he felt for running out on Clark the morning after their special night. Grade A chicken shit.

"All I know," Chloe continued, "is that something serious went down this last weekend over at the farm, and according to Clark, it had nothing to do with Lana."

"Chicken," Lex muttered to himself, lost in his thoughts.

"Exactly!" Chloe countered, misunderstanding. "I thought he was lying too! But why would he lie about Lana? It's not like the whole town doesn't already know he's got it bad for her."

"For chicken?" Lex said, drifting back into the conversation. "I thought you said it was a duck."

"What? Lex, no, I'm talking about Lana. Where are you right now?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just concerned," he lied. "Now that you mention it, he has been acting strangely. I was just thinking about what could be wrong with him."

"Well, he seemed like he was on the verge of a complete meltdown this afternoon. I don't know what kind of wine he was drinking over the weekend, but it must have been a very good year."

"Champagne," Lex said blankly as he took another sip of his water thoughtfully.

"Oh, that's right," Chloe corrected herself. "It was beer and champagne, not beer and wine. Anyway—Wait, what?"

"What?" Lex repeated, once more snapping into reality.

"How did you know that Clark was…" Chloe suddenly gasped. "You!"

"Ewe?!" Lex replied, concerned. "There's a duck _and _a sheep now?! We need to get Clark away from that farm!"

"No, not 'ewe', Lex! You!" Chloe pointed her finger heatedly across the desk.

Realizing his slip about the champagne, Lex tensed up in his seat. "Me?" he asked innocently.

"Yes, you! You know what's going on, don't you? Clark has already confided in you and now you're playing dumb just like he is! You know who he was with this weekend!"

Lex's body relaxed with a bit of a shiver as he realized he hadn't been caught. _At least not yet,_ he thought, mentally kicking himself for being so careless.

"I don't believe this!" Chloe went on. "What is going on here? Are you and Clark screwing with me?"

Lex had been in the middle of getting up from his seat when Chloe asked her question, and he was startled into knocking over his bottle of water which spilled all over the desk.

"Jesus," he said. "Chloe, I can assure you, Clark and I are not screwing." He was on his way to the bar to get a towel when he turned around abruptly. "With you! With you, I mean. Clark and I are not screwing with you!"

"Oh, great!" Chloe yelled as the water dripped off of the desk and onto her jeans. She followed Lex over to the bar as he was opening a cupboard of towels. "Can I have one of those?"

"Here. Sorry about that." Lex handed her a towel, taking his own back to the desk where he began to wipe up the puddle frantically.

"You and Clark are even more alike than I realized," Chloe said as she dabbed at her jeans. "You're both klutzes, you're a couple of total space cases—"

"Chloe, if you had eaten five slices of onion-y pizza, would you want to kiss you?" Lex asked absently, completely running over her sentence in his Clark-induced oblivion.

Chloe stared at him in undisguised alarm. "I will never want to kiss me!" she yelled in response. "God, that's the second time today that someone has—" Chloe gasped again, more violently this time. "No!"

"Hmm?" Lex looked up from the desk.

"No!"

"What?" Lex asked, startled this time.

"No no NO!"

"Chloe, what the hell?"

"You!"

"Duck."

"You!"

"Sheep?"

"You! Lex Luthor!"

"Chloe, are you on something?"

"I must be!" Chloe shrieked, throwing her towel onto the floor and striding toward Lex. "I damn well must be on something to have missed what is going on right in front of my face!"

"I'm sorry, Chloe, I don't know what you're—"

"You and Clark are doing the Farmhouse Rock!"

Lex took a breath to respond, and then realized he had no idea what he was responding to.

"You're in love with each other!" Chloe spat triumphantly. Her smile broadened when Lex remained speechless and clearly terrified. "And _you_ were the one with him this weekend. _You _were the reason he was asking me all those stupid oral hygiene questions!"

"Chloe, you're wrong…" Lex shook his head convulsively.

"And you guys got shit-faced together!" Chloe laughed out loud. "You big slut! How was it?!"

Lex's mouth opened and closed several times before he was able to make his voice cooperate. "You're not mad?"

"Mad?! I just won a bet with Pete!!!"

"You've been _betting_ on me?"

"Not just you, ego-boy." Chloe slapped Lex on the arm playfully. "You and Clark both. You know, as a couple. I mean, it was sort of a joke between Pete and me, but I still really hoped that I was right."

"I thought you were on the Clark and Lana train," Lex said quietly.

"I jumped that train months ago. I told you already, I'm tired of the Kent/Lang saga. I just didn't realize Clark was smart enough to agree with me! So come on, Lex! Spill it!"

Lex could hardly believe what he was hearing. He knew that Chloe had a knack for figuring things out, but this was unbelievable. And even more shockingly, she was in full support of his feelings for Clark.

"Hold on, hold on," he said with a hand raised in the air. "Did you say that Clark is in love with me?"

Chloe smiled as she realized she now had some leverage. "My lips are sealed. I'm not saying one more word until you tell me everything that happened." She walked over to the couch and sat down, gazing up at Lex expectantly.

After a long moment with his eyes tightly shut, Lex took a deep breath and walked back to the bar. He poured a large serving of brandy and touched the glass against his forehead in a gesture of exhaustion before downing its contents and pouring another. He then walked over to the couch and slowly sat down.

"You understand, of course, that if what I tell you _ever_ leaves this room, you will wake up dead," he threatened.

"If I'm dead, I'm not going to wake up to figure it out, now am I?" Chloe shot back with a smirk.

Lex examined her through squinted eyes humorlessly.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Chloe said in exasperation as the setting sun filled Lex's study with a golden-orange glare. "Five slices of pizza with everything on it, copious amounts of alcohol, and a bowl of salted popcorn?" 

Lex nodded.

"You must not get many second dates, Lex!" Chloe laughed as Lex's face drooped, partly because of her romantic criticism, and partly because of all the brandy he had required to tell the story.

"No wonder you didn't get a kiss," Chloe continued. "The only way you could have been more lethal is with an abscessed tooth!"

"Chloe, that's disgusting," Lex slurred. "And I told you, I didn't get the smooch because Clark passed out." He rose from the couch and attempted a few unbalanced steps to the bar for a refill. Chloe stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Looks like you're about to do the same thing," she said.

"Smooch?" Lex asked with a crumpled brow.

"Pass out," Chloe corrected.

"Don't mind if I do." Lex continued his unsteady trek to the alcohol. "But it's not like Clark didn't want to," he went on, raising a finger shakily into the air.

"Pass out?" Chloe asked.

"Smooch," Lex corrected.

"Um… am I interrupting something?"

It was Clark.

Chloe and Lex turned to the door of the study with a jump. Lex's arm dropped to his side, his forgotten brandy glass hanging limply from his fingers.

"Clark!" Chloe exclaimed. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I completely lost track of time!"

"Don't worry, I put the paper to bed," Clark replied, never taking his eyes off of Lex. "Is everything okay here?"

"I think that's up to you two," Chloe said a little awkwardly. "Maybe I should go so you boys can talk." She began inching her way toward the door.

"I'm not sure how much there is to say," Clark said to Lex sadly. "After the way you took off before I woke up on Saturday, it seems pretty clear you're over it."

Chloe came marching back into the room indignantly at this development. "You just took off?! Lex, you didn't tell me that!"

"I freaked out, okay?" Lex said back to Clark. "But as far as I know, there's no law against you calling me to ask me what happened."

Chloe turned to Clark who immediately became the new target of her indignation. "You haven't even called him?! Honestly, Clark, did you learn dating etiquette in a locker room?"

"Why should I be the one to call when you were the one who ditched me?" Clark spat at Lex, ignoring Chloe. "Some knight in shining armor you've turned out to be!"

"He's got a point, Lex," Chloe agreed. Then she looked back at Clark. "Um, I'm sorry, did you just say knight? What else happened this weekend that Lex hasn't filled me in on?"

For the first time since Clark arrived, Clark and Lex both turned to Chloe and stared at her wordlessly. She shriveled slightly under the heat of their gazes.

"Or maybe I don't want to know," she said with a nervous titter. "I'll just let myself out then." With that, Chloe made her exit.

Lex turned his back to Clark and finally made it all the way to the bar to pour another drink.

"You're already drunk, Lex," Clark said.

"Good. Then you won't feel any pressure to kiss me." Lex took a large swallow of the brown liquid.

"What are you talking about? I thought you didn't want to kiss me! That's the only thing I could figure out after I woke up all alone in my living room. I don't even remember what happened. I thought our evening had been going so well."

"You passed out, Clark. That's what happened. It seems you were more interested in sleeping off your buzz than you were in spending time with me."

"Lex, that's not fair! I had no control over that! And you were drunk too, remember?" Clark closed the gap between himself and Lex and took the remaining brandy out of his hands, placing the glass back on the bar. He pulled at Lex's shoulder, applying just enough force that Lex had no choice but to face him. "What is this really about? Talk to me."

"You're so young, Clark."

"Not so young that I can't make my own decisions."

Lex shook his head. "Decisions that you'll live to regret. Fanciful dreams are one thing, but getting involved with a Luthor… I just don't think I can make you happy."

Clark ran a warm hand over the top of Lex's head and down the back of his neck, eliciting a quiet shiver. Then he pulled Lex close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath which, to Clark's relief, wasn't at all unpleasant.

"You're my knight, Lex. You already make me happy."

Lex shook his head again, but this time with a crooked smile on his face. "You're not going to let me screw myself out of a good thing, here, are you."

"Not a chance," Clark smiled. "Now for the love of Madeline Kahn, just kiss me already."

Two pairs of smiling lips joined together softly, tentatively receiving their first taste of heaven. As the kiss intensified, so did their physical connection, Clark reaching down around Lex's waist and squeezing him tightly as Lex's arms wrapped around Clark's neck. Lex pushed himself into Clark as hard as he could, needing every inch of their bodies to be in contact with each other.

As the kiss slowly wound down, Clark's grasp loosened a little to allow Lex some room to breathe. Lex finally pulled his lips away and rested his head on Clark's shoulder so that he could take a deep breath of the fresh and wholesome smells that lingered there.

"So what now?" Clark asked with an exhilarated lilt in his voice.

But within a moment's time, Clark felt all of Lex's weight fall onto him as a soft snore escaped his throat. Lex had passed out.

"You've got to be kidding me," Clark said to no one in particular. "We are never drinking again."

With that, he scooped Lex up into his arms and made his way to the bedroom.

* * *

A/N: Sort of sounds like the end, right? Well, it's not. More is on the way. 


	6. Knightly Devotion

Title: Knightly Devotion

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 6

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

Feedback: Yes, please!

Author's Note: For those of you who have added this story to your alerts and favorites and inquired about when I will continue, thank you. You have encouraged me to finish. And come hell or high water, this story _will_ be finished. Keep reading!

* * *

They've been riding for hours and probably will be for hours more, creeping through the few slivers of moonlight that are able to find a way through the foliage. The woods are too dense to gallop, and the horse has already stumbled twice. Not for the first time, a frightened spasm grips the core of Lex's stomach as he thinks of what just transpired at the castle. He coughs into his hand, hoping the butterfly in his stomach will pass for a frog in his throat. Clark isn't fooled.

"It was the right thing, Lex."

"I know." Silence.

"So feel good about it."

"I do," Lex replies. "It just happened so fast. One minute I'm an honorable knight fighting in the name of His Majesty, The King, and the next, I'm—"

"Free?"

"Exposed."

Clark digests this quietly for a moment. "Oh," he finally answers.

"I know that's not what you want to hear," Lex says.

Another uncomfortable pause ensues. "I guess I just thought you weren't ashamed of me."

"I am not ashamed, Clark. Don't think that I wouldn't…that I'm not… It's just harder than I thought it would be, okay? I've given up my whole life."

"We'll make a new life," Clark says, kissing Lex's cheek.

"They'll come for us, Clark."

"I know that."

"And what then?"

"You'll see."

Lex understands that pushing Clark for answers he is unwilling to give is completely futile, so he seals his lips and tries not to think too far ahead. Just when he feels that one more second in these overgrown woods will kill him, he feels a small burst of fresh air against his face. Seconds later, they reach a clearing.

Before either of them have an opportunity to breathe deeply of the fresh, open air, they hear several twigs snap in the darkness of the trees to their left. Lex holds up his hand in a quieting gesture to Clark.

"Surely, we weren't followed?" Clark whispers incredulously.

"I think it's a deer," Lex whispers back. "We should make sure."

He puts his hand over the hilt of his sword hanging at his hip and urges the horse softly forward.

Clark starts slightly as he feels the crystal jerk inside of his cloak, pulling at him, prompting him to stay where he is.

"What is it?" Lex asks.

"Let me down." Clark leaps easily off of the horse. "Something isn't right. I have to stay here."

"But if we were followed—" Lex begins.

"I'll be fine. You investigate the noise. I'll be here when you get back."

With an expression of utmost reluctance on his face, Lex tightens his grip on the reins and urges the horse cautiously in the direction of the noise. He stops momentarily to address Clark one more time.

"If you need any…" Lex begins, but then stops himself. Clark barely notices as Lex rides silently back into the gnarling trees and disappears from view.

Clark kneels to the ground and bends down, placing his ear gently against the soft earth, listening for unfamiliar vibrations. He first hears the vibration of Lex's horse stepping carefully through the dark forest. Then he hears another familiar vibration, that of small animals moving quietly about, tending to their own nocturnal affairs. He focuses his hearing more directly, specifically reaching out for a sound more sinister, for footsteps or movements belonging to someone who shouldn't be here.

In that moment, he hears them. The steps of one person, a man, judging by the weight and the interval of silence between the impact of each foot hitting the ground, come slowly and calmly toward him from behind. He recognizes the footsteps and knows the man who has now come to a halt directly behind him. Clark lifts his ear from the soil and stands up slowly, a confident smile spreading across his face.

"Far braver men than you have had the gall to sneak up on me and did not live to tell the tale," Clark half whispers, a mix of humor and contempt boiling up in his throat.

Cold, thin laughter rings out in response. "I am under no illusions that I can approach you without your knowledge of it."

Clark turns around slowly, finally letting his eyes rest on the man who has followed him all the way here from the castle. Before him stands a white-bearded, middle-aged man wearing a green robe with a gaudy, oversized gold and burgundy pendant hanging in the middle of his chest from a gold chain around his neck. Clark's expression changes from a grin of annoyance to a leer of menace.

"It can't have been more than three hours ago that I warned you of the trouble you'd be in if I ever beheld your hideous face again," Clark hissed. And then, with a generous helping of scorn, "Your Majesty."

* * *

Clark's vision filled with a wash of startling light in the form of solid flesh tone. Making the laziest of mental strides out of the oblivion of his drowsy morning forgetfulness, he soon understood that he was witnessing the spectacular view of the inside of his own eyelids as the sun shone warmly down on his face. What he didn't understand is how the sun was shining on his face this early in the morning when his room was on the west side of the farmhouse. Or for that matter, what the sun was even doing _up_ this early in the morning. Or indeed, why he wasn't out in the fields helping with the early morning chores as he had promised his father he would. This morning. Early morning. _Before_ the sun was supposed to rise, be it on the east or the west.

"Shit!" Clark yelped as he sat up straight in bed, finally coming to the conclusion that he had overslept.

He was even more startled to see that Lex was sitting across the room from him in an armchair, staring at him quite serenely with a mug of steaming coffee about to reach his lips.

"Good morning?" Lex asked with a single eyebrow wryly arched, sipping his coffee.

It was in that instant that Clark realized he wasn't actually in his own room at all. He had fallen asleep in Lex's bed and inadvertently spent the night.

"Shit shit shit!" Clark yelped again.

"Your aptitude for civilized midday conversation is perfectly astounding, Clark. Please, go on."

Clark was too agitated to even notice the enjoyment Lex was reaping from the situation.

"Midday?" Clark repeated, feebly.

Lex nodded.

"Shit shit shit SHIT!"

Clark jumped out of the bed, only to find himself clad in nothing but plaid boxers.

"Damn it!" he shrieked as he jumped back into the bed, then stood up again once he had Lex's undoubtedly expensive bedspread wrapped tightly around his waist. Then he again looked at Lex who was still staring comfortably enough right back at him. "I mean…" Clark began.

"Shit," Lex supplied.

"Yeah. NO! I mean, no. I just mean…"

"Shit shit shit," Lex said, his enjoyment growing, and this time not unnoticed by Clark.

"I'm in big trouble, Lex! I was supposed to be at the farm this morning to help my dad. And now it's the middle of the day and my parents are going to kill me for sleeping over here without asking first, and they're also probably wondering why I'm sleeping over at _your _place in the first place, and if my dad shows up in the next 60 seconds with his shotgun over his shoulder, don't say I didn't warn you, and why am I in my underwear?"

Lex finally put down his mug of coffee and stood up, looking as knightly as ever in his elegant-yet-simple, perfectly tailored lavender shirt and grey slacks. He sauntered easily across the floor, the grace of his movements and the movement of his body beneath his clothes causing Clark to forget his current predicament partially, and then planted a soft but disarming kiss on Clark's lips, causing Clark to forget his current predicament completely.

"Oh," Clark mumbled, denoting nothing in particular.

"I was hoping," Lex stated simply, "that _you_ could fill _me _in on the details of last night. You see, I woke up this morning with a sledgehammer beating the inside of my skull and a half-naked teenager in my bed, and by God, I want some answers." Lex folded his arms across his chest and pulled his face into an exaggeratedly stern frown as if to punctuate his overwhelming anxiety.

"You were drunk," said Clark with a shy smile, catching onto Lex's game.

"Mm-hmm," Lex said, squinting his eyes suspiciously.

"And we had a fight… about us…" Clark continued slowly as Lex inched closer, still holding his arms tightly across his chest.

"I see," Lex nodded gravely.

"But then we made up," Clark said.

"Yes, all right. That does sound vaguely familiar," Lex replied, agreeably enough.

Clark let his smile take over his face at the memory of kissing Lex for the first time the night before.

"And then," he concluded, "you passed out on my shoulder, and I carried you up here and put you in your bed. I must have fallen asleep."

Lex nodded slowly and inched even closer. Excited by the prospect of another kiss, Clark leaned in cautiously and closed his eyes, waiting for Lex to meet him halfway. But when he felt nothing but air against his lips, he opened his eyes, and Lex was no longer in front of him, having walked casually back to the side of his armchair where he was thoughtfully blowing on his coffee.

"Mm. No," Lex said. "No, that doesn't sound right. Are you sure you're remembering clearly?"

"Lex, come on!" Clark dropped the bedspread to the floor in a show of mock frustration and stormed over to Lex, pulled the coffee mug out of his hand easily, and drew Lex into his arms lovingly but quite tightly. "_You_ passed out this time, not me. I remember every detail of last night. The only thing I'm not sure of is where my clothes have gone. Well, that, and why you're not kissing me right now."

With that, Clark leaned in again for his kiss, but this time, he didn't give Lex the option of eluding him. Lex gave in willingly. The kiss was long and deliberate and full of a slow fire, a wetness, that the innocence of their previous kiss hadn't allowed for. Desire filled this kiss, and as their tongues wove around each other, Clark felt himself coming alive below the waist, alarmed by the mildness of his inhibition as he pressed his burgeoning arousal into Lex's pelvis.

"Mmm," Lex moaned through a mouthful of Clark. "We have to stop."

"Why?" Clark murmured.

"I mean, as much as I love seeing you in that farmboy underwear of yours…"

"Shut up," Clark quietly protested, continuing the kiss.

"You still need to…"

"Oh," Clark said, pulling away slightly as his obligations returned to the forefront of his mind. "My dad is going to be furious."

"Your dad has been taken care of," Lex said, nipping at Clark's ear before pulling away completely. He went over to the dresser on top of which lay a pile of neatly folded clothes, Clark's clothes, and brought them back to Clark. "I had them washed."

Lex then made a grand and gentlemanly gesture of turning his back so that Clark could get dressed. Clark had to stifle a laugh at the earnestness of it, especially after the heat he and Lex had shared only moments ago. But he took his cue and put his clothes back on. They were still warm from the dryer, and he breathed in the refreshing scent of fabric softener as the warm material made his skin sing with satisfaction and comfort.

"What do you mean 'taken care of?'" he said.

"Chloe has been in touch with your parents today to tell them about the report you two are working on," Lex said, turning back around to survey Clark's outfit. He pulled on the flannel collar fastidiously, straightening it. Clark enjoyed the gesture. Even more, the quiet affection with which it was given.

"Report?" Clark repeated.

"On 17th century Scotland," Lex nodded. "You and Chloe have a date at the Metropolis Museum this afternoon to start your research. I've arranged everything for you."

Clark couldn't remember anything about a history assignment, but he was becoming aware that his time with Lex was drawing to a close. He felt his disappointment oozing from every pore, but he tried to smile enthusiastically to show Lex he was grateful for his help.

"At least, that's what Chloe was kind enough to tell your parents for me," Lex continued. Clark squinted at Lex, trying to understand. "There is no report. You're coming to Metropolis with me today."

Clark's disappointment gave way to instant excitement as visions of romantic meals, limo rides, and penthouse make-out sessions filled his head. "What are we going for?" Clark asked eagerly.

"I just told you," Lex replied. "17th century Scotland."

Clark's face screwed itself up into a portrait of confusion.

* * *

After the intimacy shared in Lex's bedroom, the ride to Metropolis in one of the many Luthor sports cars steadily became more and more uncomfortable for Clark. He had woken up feeling so safe and welcomed by Lex, and although he couldn't believe anything had really changed in the last hour or so, he started to become curious about the things they hadn't yet discussed. Like, for one, their status. After parking the car outside of the museum and wordlessly walking inside to the hushed and echoing halls for several minutes, Lex pulled Clark aside and into a darkened hallway where a new exhibit lay unlit and half assembled beneath sheets of white linen. Clark leaned back against the wall and Lex placed his hands on the boy's broad shoulders.

"I may have been drunk last night, but I knew what I was doing when I kissed you," Lex confessed softly, seeming to know just what Clark had been thinking about.

"But… what does that make us?" Clark couldn't bring himself to lift his eyes above Lex's chest. "What are we to each other?"

"Well, that depends on you, Clark. There is obviously a lot of affection between us, but that doesn't mean we have to be one thing or another. We could be casually dating with the potential of something more. We could even put off conversation about it until you're ready to—"

"I want you to be my knight," Clark spat, planting his large, pleading eyes squarely on Lex's face. His already rosy cheeks reddened slightly. "Er… boyfriend. I want you to be my boyfriend." Clark suddenly realized how juvenile that word sounded coming out of his mouth, a word far too crass and overused to apply to someone as mature and sophisticated as Lex. "I mean… Is that a stupid word? Boyfriend?"

Lex smiled. "Your knight, your boyfriend, your main squeeze. As long as it means we're together, I really don't give a damn what you call it."

Clark chuckled. "Main squeeze?" he said, lifting his eyebrows.

"Well, maybe not main squeeze," Lex said with a grin. "But anything _else_ is fine with me."

"Yeah?" Clark pressed.

"Yes, Clark."

"What about this?" Clark leaned in to steal a quick kiss from Lex. Lex accepted the kiss and then placed a finger on Clark's lips as he leaned out around the corner of their deserted hallway to make sure this section of the museum was empty. Satisfied, he returned his attention to Clark.

"This…" Lex said, giving Clark a softer, slower kiss, "is also fine with me."

Clark smiled at that, and as the warmth of Lex's breath gently covered his face, his eyelids began to droop with pleasure. Lex leaned in and kissed Clark's right cheek and then his left. He kissed Clark on the tip of the nose then, an airy ghost of a kiss which elicited a shiver and a soft giggle from Clark's throat. Lex lowered his lips back to Clark's next, and they kissed each other deeply, Lex's hands finding his way down to Clark's waist, teasing him with agile fingers that found their way under the hem of the boy's plaid shirt, touching lightly upon the skin of his hips.

"Mmm," Clark moaned, wrapping his arms around Lex's neck and cupping the back of his hairless head with two large hands. Lex lost his balance for a split second, causing their groins to bounce lightly against each other and both of the boys moaned simultaneously, and louder than either of them had intended. A small, layered echo rang throughout the hall around them.

"Shit," Lex whispered.

"Shit, shit, shit," Clark whispered back.

They froze in position and listened quietly, neither of them breathing. Moments later, they heard footsteps coming toward them down the hallway, slowly, methodically, and Clark's heart began to race as Lex let go of him and stepped several feet away. Clark tried to straighten out his shirt and fix his perpetually messy hair in anticipation of whoever was coming, while Lex merely assumed his trademark commanding posture as though he already knew that whoever it was could not possibly supercede his authority. He was right.

A security guard walked past the deserted hallway, a new security guard judging by the intimidated and somewhat clueless expression that seemed to be glued to his young face, and stopped when he saw Lex and Clark. He looked startled.

"Yes?" Lex asked in a level tone.

"Uh… this exhibit isn't open yet," the guard squeaked.

"Yes?" Lex repeated, replicating his original timbre perfectly while still somehow inserting a new tone of excruciating annoyance.

"Um, so I'm going to have to ask you to…" The guard took a closer look at Lex. "Mr. Luthor?"

Lex raised his eyebrows.

"Shit," whispered the terrified young guard.

"There's a lot of that going around today," Clark muttered.

"What?" The guard jumped at the sound of Clark's voice as if noticing he was there for the first time.

"That will be all…" Lex gazed down at the boy's name tag. "…Brian."

"Sir, I'm so sorry—"

Lex cut the guard off with a mere dropping of his raised eyebrows, a signal that he was now finished with this exchange, and Clark watched as the guard's reaction to the tiny change in expression may as well have been a reaction to a gun pointed at his forehead. He nearly skipped away from them, never looking back. Clark gazed at Lex whose expression shifted back to one of warmth and kindness as he returned his attention to his young lover. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Clark smiled. He was amazed by the power Lex had over people. He was attracted to that power. But what he didn't want to admit to Lex, or even to himself, is that he was a little afraid of it as well.

"Let's get to work then, shall we?" Lex put an arm around Clark's shoulder and pulled him deeper into the dark hallway, toward the covered exhibit, lit dully by a skylight high overhead. Lex pulled the linens off of the display cases and smiled proudly as Clark's jaw dropped.

"Lex…" Clark gasped. "How did you…"

"As a stockholder of the museum, I hear about all of the upcoming exhibits. I thought this one might be of interest to you."

"You thought it might…" Clark trailed off, stepping closer to the glass cases.

Inside the tall case on the far left was a suit of armor, shiny, intricately crafted, and intimidating. The wearer of such a suit would clearly be interested in more than just his own physical protection. He would want his opponent to know that he was a warrior, that he was a killer, and one to be greatly feared. In the middle case, which was much wider than the first, was a row of headless mannequins robed in shabby, graying linen smocks, tied at the waist with stained ropes. On the right, were several more costumes, their expensive materials and jewelry befitting of royalty. All of the items were stunning in their age and authenticity. And all of them were familiar to Clark.

"Lex," he breathed softly. "They're just like—"

"The dreams?" Lex nodded.

"How is this possible?"

Lex walked over to a podium with a small plaque of engraved copper nailed to it. He read. "'In all of the 17th century, there are few accounts as multifaceted, as intriguing, and as maddeningly incomplete as the little-known report of the Scottish Witches and their seduction of royalty which ultimately led to the total destruction and extinction of both powerful bloodlines.'"

Clark swallowed slowly, turning from the display to Lex and then back to the display. "I've never heard of this story," he said.

"Most haven't," Lex said.

"But whoever is funding this exhibit has," Clark countered. "Do you think they know about our involvement with it?"

Lex frowned. "What involvement, Clark? We've had a couple of dreams, that's all."

But it was more than that, and Clark suddenly knew it. He knew it more certainly with every new dream, and as he surveyed the cases one more time, his eyes rested on the far right one, finally recognizing the nagging feeling inside of him to take a closer look. His jaw dropped again.

"Clark?"

He didn't respond to Lex. All he could do was continue to stare at the royal costumes hanging hauntingly on the headless dummies. The one that caught his eye was a robe made of exquisite green material with a large gold and burgundy pendant hanging in front of the neckline. He shivered as his dreams began to return to him. In all of the uproar concerning his relationship with Lex, Clark had completely forgotten the dream about killing a man wearing that very same robe and pendant, and the next dream about the fight with that same man that had led to the murder.

The murder of a king.

Using his preternatural eyesight, Clark focused with all of his might on the garment. He thought he could see just the faintest traces of dried brown bloodstains on the chest of the robe, but he couldn't be sure if they were real or if his imagination was running away with him. He didn't even know if it was possible for a bloodstain to last that long.

"What is it, Clark? You haven't had anymore dreams, have you?" Lex pressed, his voice gentle but his face expressionless.

Clark had another flash of the king's face as he lay dead in the clearing, of the red and gaping slash in his throat. Clark swallowed audibly, as the dream flooded his mind so completely that it felt more like an actual memory than fantasy. Finally, he shook his head.

"That necklace," he stammered. "It's so tacky." _Lame,_ he thought.

Lex watched Clark watching the pendant for a long moment. Then his expression returned to one of warmth and he slipped a hand into Clark's back pocket with a chuckle.

"Oh, no," Lex intoned. "And I was having one made just like it for you as a token of my knightly devotion."

"Your _nightly_ devotion? Lex, we've only spent one night together." Clark smirked.

Instead of taking the bait, Lex merely bumped his shoulder lightly against Clark's. Clark relaxed slightly at the feel of Lex's hand on his backside, a delightfully sexual gesture masquerading as an innocent show of affection. He didn't like withholding the truth from Lex. But the dream was just too upsetting to talk about. And anyway, maybe Lex was right. Maybe they were just dreams after all, and these strange costumes were some kind of weird coincidence. It was even possible that Clark had heard something about this exhibit from a friend or seen it on the news at which point it seeped into his subconscious mind and caused the recurring dreams.

That didn't exactly explain why Lex was having the dreams too, and why they seemed to be coming in such consistent order. But Clark was determined not to think too deeply on it. Lex was here with him, loving him, rubbing his back now and whispering warmth into his ear about a romantic dinner in Metropolis and then a slow drive back to Smallville, back to the mansion. Perfect, just as Clark had imagined. That was all that mattered. Clark decided to see the dreams as a gift, as a romantic, if somewhat strange opportunity for him and Lex to finally be honest about their feelings for each other.

Everything was fine.

* * *

"What is it?" Lex asks.

"Let me down." Clark leaps easily off of the horse. "Something isn't right. I have to stay here."

"But if we were followed—" Lex begins.

"I'll be fine. You investigate the noise. I'll be here when you get back."

"If you need any…" Lex begins, but then stops himself.

Clark doesn't need his help or his permission to do whatever it is that he wants to do. Clark proved that earlier this evening with the fiasco at the palace. The embarrassment of everything that happened, the accusatory stares he received from his family, his colleagues, his _friends_, strengthens Lex's determination to leave Clark here alone like he has been instructed, and he does. He rides off into the night.

His horse hasn't gone far through the tangled brush of the forest, however, before he hears a muffled voice behind him. At first, he thinks that Clark is performing some spell or enchantment, but then he realizes that he is actually hearing two voices, talking…no…fighting with each other. He jumps off of his horse and walks as quietly back to the edge of the clearing as he can to see what the commotion is about.

Clark's back is to Lex now, and whoever Clark is fighting with is hidden behind his large frame. Lex comes as close to the clearing as he can without being detected, and strains to hear what is being said. He puts a gentle hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to defend his love if it becomes necessary. But his curiosity keeps him back. He wants to know who he is potentially fighting rather than blindly storming into a dangerous situation.

"You have no idea what you're up against," he hears Clark threaten with a menace that Lex has never heard in Clark's voice before.

"Oh, you'd be surprised what I know," replies the other voice confidently. "And you'd be surprised at how little power you actually have."

"I could kill you where you stand," Clark seethes. Lex shutters at the sheer darkness of his lover's voice, the voice that had spoken so sweetly to him so many times. There is a long silence. Then the man hidden from view lowers his voice to the point that Lex can't make out his words, but they seem to have a powerful sway as Lex watches Clark's posture shift to one of lessening self-assurance. "No," Clark whispers.

Lex wants to move to a better vantage point, but he is afraid of giving himself away. He can no longer lie to himself and say that he is remaining in hiding to have a better chance of protecting Clark when the time comes. He now must admit that his curiosity about Clark is getting the best of him, that the many secrets that he has always been aware of Clark keeping, the very origins of Clark's magical power, could possibly come to light in this confrontation, and he cannot help but stay back where he can hear them.

"Yes," the unseen voice answers, back to a volume that Lex can perceive. "You may kill me this instant." _Not a wise choice of words,_ Lex thinks to himself as he sees Clark entire body shift into attack stance. The man goes on. "But you must know that I have a second. Should anything happen to me, he will carry on in my stead. Foolish witch," the man chuckles snidely. "If I don't live to wipe out your entire filthy race, he'll happily do it for me!"

Before Lex can even process what has been said, Clark screams in a voice loud enough to frighten the stars. At a speed incomprehensible to human eyes, he slashes his arm through the air, and Lex hears the man's body fall to the ground with a soft thump. Lex slaps a hand over his own mouth, trying not to gasp. Clark remains where he is for a long moment, then runs away from the scene at an impossible pace.

Once he is gone, Lex runs into the clearing and to the body and kneels next to it, his heart stuck in his throat. He takes off his gloves and put his hands on either side of the man's face, staring down deep into the open, unseeing eyes, and the dark oval of the man's open mouth. Lex can hear his own heart beating loudly in his ears as beads of sweat form across his forehead.

He surveys the man's green robe, his pendant of deepest red glinting dully in the starlight, his white beard spattered with his freshly shed blood. _Your Highness,_ are the first words that come to Lex's mind. _The king is dead._ But another form of address comes to mind, one that Lex has been loath to use for many, many months. One that he had sworn he would never use again, and somehow, he can't help the word from spilling out of his mouth now.

"Father," he whispers. "My God, father. What have I done?"

* * *

Lex woke up with a jerk, quickly remembering where he was by the feel of the cool satin sheets against his skin and the large, warm presence breathing gently next to him. He was back home in Smallville, in bed with Clark. He turned to his young lover with a slight sense of foreboding that made him want to laugh at himself, but as hard as he tried, he didn't feel quite at ease.

Clark was still asleep, peaceful, breathing evenly. Lex leaned in closer to study his face in the shaft of soft moonlight dropping in from the window, the face of his new boyfriend, the face he had fantasized about waking up next to a hundred times or more, and in that moment, with the haze of his frightening dream still hanging over his eyes, he couldn't force himself to feel the warmth that Clark usually inspired. He felt mistrust.

He felt fear.


	7. Backwards

Title: Backwards

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 7

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

* * *

Lex had a headache.

He sat at his desk in the library, staring endlessly at the screen of his laptop computer, wanting to be doing anything other than staring endlessly at the screen of his laptop computer. Eating, running, working, drinking… Or maybe not drinking. His stomach lurched at the thought of all the silliness he had committed under the influence of alcohol in the past weeks.

But in spite of his list of possible alternatives to his current preoccupation, he couldn't tear himself away from it. Knew somehow that he shouldn't.

On the screen before him, he had several boxes set up in a kind of chart, a row of graphics that he had ordered and reordered countless times in the last few hours. Each box represented a dream, either a dream of his own or a dream of Clark's. Lex, like Clark, had begun to notice the fact that they had been coming in a particular order, though the order didn't quite make sense to him yet. He thought if he had all the dreams represented visually in front of him, like pieces of a puzzle, he could find the right sequence and perhaps unlock their meaning.

Frustrated with the current order he was working on, he gave up and put all the boxes back in their original order, the order in which the dreams had occurred. He studied the first two closely, thinking back to when he and Clark had first begun talking about all of this, when they had both been so enamored of each other but too shy to admit it. He smiled.

There was a clear sequence to the first two dreams. Backwards. He remembered Clark saying something about how his first dream was like tuning in halfway through a movie, and then Lex's dream had been like watching the first half. Lex squinted his eyes and looked at the rest of the boxes in line.

_If the first two dreams are going backwards in time…_ he thought, his heartbeat quickening with a hesitant glimmer of hope. The dreams themselves didn't seem to give him enough information to connect them all as clearly as he had the first two. But hypothetically, it seemed logical enough that they followed the same order, leading up to the last dream he had had a week ago, which would be the first in the time sequence. The dream of his father…the king, apparently, having his throat slashed. By Clark.

Lex shuddered. He had been able to convince himself in the past week that it really was just a dream, and he hadn't even bothered to bring it up to Clark, whose smiling, sunshiny face had a natural tendency to make everything seem less serious, less worrisome in Lex's mind. Still, though. What haunted him even more than the dream, although he hated to even consciously admit that he was haunted at all, were his feelings upon waking, the feelings that he had really been in that forest, had really watched his father die at the hands of his lover, and the feeling that the man he was lying next to when he woke up, the man that he could safely say he was falling in love with, was dangerous. That Lex himself wasn't safe.

Another upsetting point was the conversation Lex had overheard in the dream. He couldn't make out everything that was said, but it was clear that Clark was being threatened with some secret, something that evidently even "Sir Lex" hadn't known. It hurt Lex's heart a little to think how well that part of the dream seemed to parallel real life. He knew Clark had been keeping a secret from him since the beginning of their friendship, since the incident with the Porsche when he and Clark first met. In the bliss of their recent union, Lex had forgotten about it for a while, but as the time went on, and their romantic bond grew stronger and closer each day, the questions became more and more persistent, pushing at the edges of Lex's mind, struggling to come tumbling out of his mouth.

Clark had finally given Lex his love. So when would he feel comfortable enough to share his secrets?

Lex's eyes focused again on his computer screen, a sinking feeling crawling through his stomach as, not for the first time, he realized he was becoming obsessed with the meaning of these dreams, like he had become obsessed with the accident on the bridge, like he had become obsessed with every unexplained Clark incident. His need to uncover the truth, and the extremes he suspected he was capable of to do it, frightened him. What if he couldn't stop himself? What if he pushed too hard and damaged something beyond repair? Something like Clark?

"You had another dream?"

Nearly jumping out of his seat, Lex whipped around with fright to see Clark standing behind him, gazing curiously at the computer screen.

"Jesus, Clark! How did you get in here?"

Clark screwed up his face at the less-than-warm reception. "I walked."

"You sneaked," Lex spouted, standing up and striding over to the bar. He reached for a brandy glass, thought better of it, and grabbed a bottle of water instead. "Why would you creep up on me like that?"

"I didn't creep or sneak, Lex. I walked into the room right in front of your face. You were so absorbed in what you were doing, you didn't notice me."

Clark's voice became quieter with his last statement, betraying just a hint of upset at Lex's obliviousness. That hint was enough to soften Lex's defenses. He put down his water and came back to Clark's side. "I didn't mean to snap at you," he said more calmly.

"If this is a bad time," Clark began, already inching away.

Lex grabbed his hand and pulled him back. "And I didn't mean to ignore you either. I'm sorry, Clark."

The younger boy looked into Lex's eyes warily through his dark eyelashes as though assessing the sincerity of Lex's apology. After a moment, he seemed to accept the terms, and he squeezed Lex's hand while reaching out to grip the other. His best smile danced easily across his lips then, and Lex would be damned if the sun didn't actually shine a little brighter.

"What is all this, anyway?" Clark asked, motioning to the computer. "I thought we were done with the dreams."

"Um, just thought it would be interesting to put them all together in order," Lex half-lied. "Nothing, really." He tried to close the computer, but Clark wouldn't let him.

"Cool," Clark said. "Did you figure anything out?"

He leaned down to the desk to get a better look. He scanned the row of boxes, seeing a brief summary of each dream typed out in italics on each one. Lex became more nervous.

"Uh, not really, no. It's stupid, anyway. What do you say we—"

"'Clark argues with the king and kills…'" Clark read from the last box in the line. "Lex…" Clark's voice shortened to a whisper.

"Clark, I don't think you need to worry about it, okay? It was just a stupid dream. Come on, let's go and—"

"You didn't tell me that you had another dream, Lex." Clark continued to stare at the screen.

Lex shook his head. "Because it doesn't matter. People have strange dreams every day. I didn't want you to be upset by it. It doesn't mean anything."

"If you believed that, you wouldn't be making this… this storyboard. Why are you working on this if it doesn't matter to you?"

With a deep breath, Lex looked from the screen to Clark's worried face. Clark's _adorable, _worried face. Lex could feel Clark's need in that moment, the need for Lex to do or say something to make it better, could feel Clark's perfect trust in Lex to make things okay. Lex worried that he wasn't deserving of that trust. But he felt a strong need of his own to become worthy of it. He decided to tell the truth.

"You know how I get obsessed, Clark." Lex could actually see a denial bubbling up in Clark's throat as he took a deep breath to reheat his stale and molding "You-didn't-hit-me-with-your-Porsche" speech. Lex put up a hand to stop him. "It's not like that," he said. "The past is in the past. I'm not dredging up old sports cars. But like I said when all this began, these dreams are fascinating to me. I just wanted to get them all in front of me like this and see if I could put them in some kind of order that made sense."

"And?" Clark asked.

"Well, it looks as though we're witnessing a story being told in reverse. The last dream I had was the first thing that happened in the sequence."

"The dream about me killing a king," Clark said glumly.

"I told you, they're not real, Clark. You don't have to worry."

"And what about the exhibit at the museum? If it's not real, then how can you explain what we saw there?"

Lex shut his mouth for a moment, stared again into Clark's big, frightened eyes. "I honestly don't know. But there are a million possible explanations. _Rational_ explanations."

"Like maybe we're remembering past lives?" Clark shot back, agitated.

"I wouldn't put that one under _rational_, Clark."

"A past life in which we were lovers—" His agitation escalated to mild panic.

"I wouldn't even put it under _possible_." Lex was calm, thoughtful.

"…and I betrayed your love and your trust by killing your _king?!_"

"Not that I would object to a past life in which I'm a knight and you're my sexy witch boyfriend."

"What a great couple we must have been!" Clark moaned. "A murdering witch and a traitorous knight!"

"And if you think about it," Lex said ironically, mostly to himself, "if he was nearly the asshole in that life that he is in this one, maybe my father getting killed wouldn't be the _most_ tragic thing that could happen…"

"Running through the kingdom in a nasty linen _skirt_ when you get to parade around in a bad-ass suit of armor!" Clark stopped his rampage short as he half-registered Lex's last words. "What about your father?"

Lex realized he had been thinking out loud, a ridiculous habit that was causing him more troubles with every passing day, and shook his head, trying to brush it off as casually as possible. "I was just thinking about something else." He glanced quickly at the computer screen to reread his summary of the last dream that he had.

_Clark fights with the king and kills him in the clearing,_ it read. Good. No mention of the king being Lex's father. As interested as he was in getting to the bottom of this mystery, he really didn't believe that it was anything as dramatic and fantastical as a past life coming back to them. But he could see the genuine worry etched across Clark's face, and he didn't want to add to it by revealing the little detail of "Sir Lex's" royal paternity.

Clark pulled Lex into a bear hug, startling him. But Lex easily relaxed into the strong arms, feeling the massive warmth of the young man's chest against his own. "Clark?" he asked.

"I don't like these dreams anymore," Clark muttered in what was possibly the cutest simulation of a pouting child Lex had ever seen. Or in this case, heard. He also knew that it was completely sincere, so he fought back a laugh as he turned his head to kiss Clark gently just beneath the ear.

"You haven't had anymore of them, have you?" Lex asked.

The warmth of Clark's breath that had been caressing Lex's ear only seconds ago stopped suddenly. Clark was silent for just a second longer than Lex would have liked. Then he began to breathe again.

"No," Clark replied flatly.

_LIE!_

Lex's internal lie detector went off like an angry, blaring horn, as it too often did in Clark's presence. Clark was quite good at keeping secrets. He was awful, however, at disguising the fact that he had them. So Clark had had another dream. And for whatever reason, he didn't want to share it with Lex.

_Calm yourself, _Lex thought. _You're not sharing the whole truth with him either, and it's not out of a desire to harm him or because of any lack of trust that you feel for him. You just want to keep him safe and happy._

He silently tried to convince himself that _any_ secret Clark was keeping from him was for the same reason, out of his need to protect Lex. That would be just like Clark. Always looking out for others.

Without removing himself from the embrace, Lex reached behind Clark and closed the computer on the desk. Clark didn't try to stop him. It seemed they had both had enough of this topic for one day.

Lex finally extricated himself from the warmth of Clark's hug and looked into his glimmering green eyes. "What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked quietly.

"Produce," Clark murmured back.

"You're on your way to school after this, right?"

Clark nodded. Lex kissed his lips.

"You better go, then. I don't want to make you late." Lex kissed him again.

"When will I see you?" Clark asked with his eyes still closed.

"Maybe in your dreams?"

Clark's eyes opened with a start. Lex couldn't fight back his chuckle this time.

"I'm sorry, Clark. I'm really sorry. That was a badly timed joke."

Clark broke into a cautious grin, letting his seriousness fade away. "Very bad. Horrible. You're going to have to make it up to me, you know."

"I think you're right. What are you doing after school?"

"Talon."

Lex's face scrunched up. "_Lana's_ Talon?"

"No, Lex, the other Talon in Smallville."

"Badly timed sarcasm, Clark. Now _you_ have to make it up to _me._" Lex folded his arms.

"Completely appropriate and entirely deserved sarcasm, if you ask me," Clark replied. "You know Lana is a non issue." He kissed Lex again to prove his point. "Besides, it's not my decision. I have a coffee date with Chloe to do some homework. And she won't even _think_ of going to the Beanery anymore. She says that with Lana behind the counter she is guaranteed the extra shots of caffeine that other places refuse to give her."

"Of course," Lex nodded. "Well, maybe I'll drop by?" Their relationship was still so new; Lex didn't want to invite himself into a situation where he wasn't welcome. He was relieved to see Clark smile and nod happily.

"I'd like that," he cooed. "Goodb—"

"Don't," Lex raised a hand to Clark's lips with a grin.

"Sorry," Clark giggled.

"See you then," Lex amended.

"See you then," Clark repeated with a nod.

They looked at each other for another quiet minute.

* * *

The look on Chloe's face as she sat across from Clark at the Talon was a startling mix of skepticism, amusement, intrigue, and buzzing, caffeinated energy. Clark looked back at her with concern.

"So that's the story," Clark finished. "Now obviously you have a novel-full of responses stored up for me, so I suggest you spit them out before your face explodes."

Chloe took a deep breath and blew it out and up, causing her bangs to rise off of her forehead for half a second, her eyes wandering wildly around in her head as she decided how to begin. Her fingers dallied shakily with her third mug of ultra-strong espresso. She took another breath and began, a little louder than she seemed to realize.

"Can we start with the fact that the Metropolis Museum has an exhibit dedicated to the medieval sex fantasies of Lex Luthor and an underage farm boy?!"

"Chloe, sshh!!!" Clark pressed a finger to Chloe's lips, and she quickly covered her mouth as she became aware of her volume, though she began to laugh. "I told you," Clark went on. "We don't know what the correlation is between the dreams and the exhibit, if there even is one. And these aren't some stupid fantasies that we just made up. These are very realistic dreams that keep coming to us, almost like visions."

"Oh, I'm sure you're quite a _vision_ in your elfin gown, Clark," Chloe giggled.

"Stop it!" Clark whispered forcefully. "I'm serious about this. I think something is really going on here."

"Going on, going down, getting off," Chloe retorted with a smirk. "I have to say, I applaud your imagination. I had no idea you were the type for role play."

Clark's face became the color of a beet. "Will you stop it with the sex jokes, please? It's nothing like that."

"But if it were, you'd tell me, right?"

"Of course…I mean, no, of course not! That part's none of your business."

"So there is a part that you're keeping from me?" Chloe pressed gleefully, leaning forward.

"If I am keeping a part from you, it's because that part belongs between me and Lex," Clark spat.

"What part?"

"The private part."

"I thought as much."

Clark's face turned an even darker shade as he recognized the trap that he'd walked into. "Chloe!!!"

Chloe tittered like a hyperactive pixie as she downed the rest of her espresso and lifted a finger in Lana's direction, motioning for another. Clark pressed his hands against his face, trying to cover his embarrassment.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" he mumbled.

"Absolutely not," she responded. "I'm on a roll."

"You're acting like you're on crack," Clark whined as Lana walked up with a mug for Chloe.

"Here you go," she said pleasantly. "Everything okay here?"

"Define okay," Chloe chirped.

"Everything is great!" Clark rebutted before Lana could respond to Chloe's quip. She squinted at Clark and Chloe, but didn't push. She walked back to the counter. "Chloe, I'm begging you. I really don't know what's going on here, and if anyone can help me get to the bottom of it, it's you. I need you to be serious."

"I don't know, Clark. Romantic dreams sure make for a really entertaining story, but playing Sigmund Freud for you is a little out of my jurisdiction. I mean…a train going through a tunnel would be a pretty obvious tip off…"

Chloe began to laugh again, but when Clark's expression became desperate, she finally shushed herself. "I _really_ think something's happening here," Clark repeated. "When I dreamed about…killing that man…it was so real, Chloe. So horribly detailed. I don't think I've ever had a dream like that before. A dream that made me feel so…so _wrong._"

Clark's voice trembled as he spoke, and Chloe put a hand on top of his. "We all have upsetting dreams from time to time," she reassured. "It doesn't necessarily mean—"

"I know that," Clark interrupted. "And maybe I'm wrong. Maybe nothing sinister is at work at all. But on the chance that there is something…I mean, it's not like we haven't seen stranger things."

Chloe looked at Clark seriously for a moment, then nodded her head. "Okay," she said. "I'll help you look into it."

The look of relief washed over Clark's face immediately. "Thank you, Chloe. Thank you so much."

At that moment, Chloe looked over Clark's shoulder toward the front doors of the Talon with some confusion. "Clark," she began, "wasn't Lex supposed to join us here this afternoon?"

"Yeah."

"Then what is _he_ doing here?"

Clark followed Chloe's stare toward the front door where he saw Lionel Luthor standing quite still, his eyes searching around the room. They quickly came to rest on Clark and Chloe. He strode over to their table and dropped a twenty-dollar bill in front of Chloe's coffee mug.

"For your trouble," he said.

"Excuse me?" Chloe sputtered.

"No, excuse _me_, Miss Sullivan. I need a word with Clark, if you don't mind. That should cover your bill."

Chloe looked nonplussed and more than a little put out, but she was suddenly too intimidated to talk back. "I don't need your charity," she managed quietly as she pushed his money back across the table. "I'll be at the bar, Clark," she said as she walked away, turning back several times to spy on the situation. Clark stiffened up as Lionel seated himself in Chloe's vacant seat.

"Mr. Luthor?" he intoned shyly.

"I'll be brief," Lionel said. "It has come to my attention that you and my son made a visit to the museum several days ago."

A tight band pulsed around Clark's heart and his breath caught in his throat. "I-I'm working on a report," he croaked.

"A report on my exhibit?" Lionel beamed. "Well, I'm flattered."

Clark's jaw fell even further toward the table. "Your exhibit?"

"Yes, Clark. The tale of the Scottish Witches vs. the Royal Family. It has always been one of my favorite historical accounts, mainly because there's so much mystery surrounding it. I decided to fund the exhibit as a way of bringing to light the fascinating story, and I hoped that more information would present itself from others who are familiar with it. I was rather surprised that you had heard about it, and even more so that you made yourself welcome to an exhibit which hadn't officially been opened to the public."

"Mr. Luthor, I'm sorry about that. I thought that since I was with Lex it would be okay…" Clark stammered. "I mean, not that it's Lex's fault at all, sir. I'm sure he wouldn't have gone in if he knew you were funding it, or, I mean, at all because he's responsible and follows rules, and…and…It was an accident," he finished wretchedly.

Lionel chuckled heartily at that. "You misunderstand me, son. I don't want you to think that you're in any trouble. I'm merely interested in _your_ interest in the story. You wouldn't happen to have any more information about it, would you? I'd be so grateful if you could shed more light on the subject."

Clark didn't know what to think. How did Lionel know that he and Lex had been to the museum? Did somebody see them there together? Or worse, was there a camera system in place that they hadn't been aware of? What if Lionel had seen everything that happened that day, including Lex and Clark's rather rambunctious make-out session right there in the hallway? Clark wondered most of all what interest Lionel could possibly have in the history. How did he even know about it?

He studied Lionel's eyes carefully. He honestly couldn't see any malice or hidden agendas there, but based on stories told to him by Lex, he knew that Lionel was a master manipulator. Clark just couldn't be sure.

"I really don't know anything more than what I saw at the museum," Clark lied. "Lex knows I like history and when he heard that exhibit was being prepared, he just thought I would be interested to see it. I'm really sorry."

Lionel's penetrating eyes scoured Clark's face for more information than he was giving. Clark could almost feel himself wanting to say more, as though Lionel were casting some sort of a spell on him to make him speak. But he resisted. Lionel's gaze became relaxed again.

"Nothing wrong with the pursuit of knowledge, boy," Lionel said with a gentleness that was menacing. "What do you have to be sorry for?" He pierced Clark with his stare again, as though he were expecting an answer to his rhetorical question. When he didn't receive one, he stood up to leave. "Thank you so much for your time."

Without sparing Clark another look, Lionel strutted out of the Talon, disappearing through the translucent glass doors. Chloe immediately skittered back to the table and reclaimed her seat.

"What the hell was that?" she whispered loudly.

Clark shook his head, a soft sheen of sweat noticeable on his forehead. "Trouble," he replied simply. He had a sudden urge to run away screaming. He fought it, though, knowing that Lex would be here soon, and although he couldn't exactly fall into Lex's open arms in such a public place, he knew that his boyfriend's steady and calming presence would make him feel less fearful.

"I wish Lex would get here," he stated.

He turned around to scan the restaurant, hoping fervently that he would see Lex. His heart jumped as he heard the bell ring over the main doors, and he saw them swinging shut. But as a shadow thrown on the glass from outside shrunk and disappeared from view, Clark realized that it had been someone leaving rather than his knight in armor arriving. He turned back to Chloe, disappointed and worried, casting his eyes upon his folded hands on the table.

"He'll be here," Chloe said quietly. "It'll be okay."

They waited.


	8. Defending His Honor

Title: Defending His Honor

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 8

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

Feedback: If you like it, say so! It nourishes my little slashing soul.

Author's Note: We're on the home stretch now, kids! Only a couple of chapters left. Thanks for sticking with me on this years-long endeavor. :)

* * *

The whole court stares at him quietly, questioningly. A couple dozen faces, only the highest of the highest-up in the entire kingdom, those most unequivocally on an urgent need-to-know basis, staring attentively upon Lex's face, staring with such intensity, and causing Lex such overwhelming anxiety that there may as well be a hundred faces, a_ thousand,_ waiting for him to continue, to say what he came here to say.

A couple dozen faces staring at him not only with intensity, but with respect that in some cases is verging on actual love. The faces of his comrades, of his friends, of his fellow soldiers, wondering what could be so important that he had to call this meeting, pulling them out of their preparation for the battle that is certainly ahead, the battle against the so-called witches who are plaguing their kingdom and endangering their people.

Little do these men know, little could they suspect, Lex is not here to effect a new strategy or battle plan in order to destroy the witches' clan, but is in fact here to pledge his allegiance to the witches' cause and propose that a treaty between the fighting sides be reached.

Even littler do they know, littler could they suspect, (_Is 'littler' even a word?_ Lex wonders, teetering dangerously on the edge of hysteria) that the treaty is based on a love affair between himself and one of the witches. One of the male witches. A deed punishable by more than a jail sentence easily. But that is not what he is here to speak of today. Today is strictly about the treaty.

"Thank…" Lex begins in barely more than a whisper. He stops to clear his throat and begins again. "Thank you all for coming. You'll have to forgive me for taking you away from your duties."

Kind mumblings resound at Lex's apology. No one is put out in the least. They know that Lex would only call the meeting if it were necessary.

"I have some news. About the battle." He clears his throat again and scratches his thumb along his eyebrow, expecting to find sweat there. It is dry. "I'm not exactly sure how to start," he chuckles nervously, almost silently.

"Get on with it, then." The statement is said under an impatient breath, completely inaudible to anyone but Lex. He looks in the direction of the jibe and sees his father, the king, staring at him with a look of boredom on his face. His father, the king, the only man in attendance whose expression denotes something other than absolute trust.

_What else is new?_ Lex thinks, resisting the urge to throw a royal fit right here in the palace.

"It seems," Lex finally continues, "that there has been a shift in alliances. Uh—that is an emergence of alliance. That is to say, a new alliance has been made."

_Smooth, Lex. _He feels the heat rise to his face as he stumbles over what he came here to say. He watches as the faces subtly change from adoration to mild confusion, wonders if it wouldn't be a better idea to let them down like this, in degrees rather than all at once. But is there really a way to prepare himself for the onslaught of anger and disillusionment that will surely arise when he finishes his announcement? Wouldn't it just be better to spit it out?

"I'm sure I don't know what this is all about," Lex's father interjects, looking disinterestedly at the floor, "but may I say that the survival of my kingdom thanks you for your brevity. What's left of it, I mean."

The faces turn from Lex to his father. Confusion quickly dissipates, and marked discomfort appears in its place.

"Thank you, Fath… Your Highness," Lex spits. "I'm quite able to make my point without your interruptions."

The king exhales sharply through his nose in doubtful response.

"Men, there has been a shift, as I have already established." Deep breath. "I have spoken to one of them. One of the witches."

A collective gasp reverberates dramatically through the large hall. Open mouths and shaking heads now make up Lex's audience. He opens his own mouth to continue but is harshly cut off by the main doors of the hall swinging open with an echoing slam.

"You've done a whole lot more to me than _speak_, dear one."

All heads turn toward the tall and imposing robed figure that now struts toward them. Another gasp is heard as the assembly digests the dingy robes worn by their new visitor as well as the gleaming crystal hanging around his neck. It is Clark.

"I—" Lex begins, but even he is too shocked to say anything useful. This is not what they agreed on.

"You'll forgive me, I hope," Clark continues toward Lex as if he is the only one in the room. "I simply couldn't wait outside another minute."

He finally arrives at Lex's side, and as if the assortment of warriors present couldn't be anymore horrified than they already are, Clark wraps a strong arm around Lex's waist and plants a short but telling kiss square on his lips.

"I've missed you," Clark breathes. He turns back to the men, some with hands now resting on their sheathed swords. "What your reluctant leader here is trying to say is that he is leaving you." Sharp intakes of breath. "He has realized that your attacks on our people are completely unwarranted, and he wants no more of it. He has decided to retire his sword and begin his new life of love and leisure with me."

Clark plants another kiss on Lex's cheek, eliciting a groan of fear and disgust from the gathered men and a look of horror from Lex himself.

"Is this true?" the king demands.

"Father, I…"

"You've been…philandering with this…this _heretic?!_"

"If you'll just listen…"

"Is it true?" echoed several of the men, heartbreak and betrayal mixing in with their tenor of loathing for Clark.

Lex looks around the room desperately, reaching for a way to state things more diplomatically. He even looks at Clark, but for the first time since arriving, the young witch keeps his mouth shut, staring back at Lex expectantly, just as interested as everyone else to hear what he has to say.

"Yes, we've made an alliance, but you must understand—"

The explosion of cries prevents Lex from going any further.

"Traitor! Abomination!" The men begin to scream.

"My _son_," the king shouts, using the pronoun like an obscenity. "That my _son_ could be so debased. So _sordid!_"

"Father, please!" Lex tries to advance on his father, to entreat to him, but Clark's insanely strong grip keeps him where he stands.

"This is what your precious leader has been reduced to!" The king shouts, now addressing Lex's men. "This is the power, the _evil_, of those witches in action! I command you, seize them both!"

Lex sees the venom flooding the eyes of his once loyal followers as they shoot mental daggers into him and his companion. The burn of bile creeping up his throat nearly makes him choke as they begin to press in on him, their swords now fully drawn.

But within seconds, this view is taken away from him and he suddenly finds himself on horseback with Clark's arms around him from behind holding onto the reins, driving the horse forward into the setting sun away from the castle.

"I had to do it, Lex," Clark says into his ear.

"You…" Lex breathes, nearly unable to speak. "You had to humiliate me in front of my people? You had to _ruin _me?!"

"I had to get you out. The king had worse in store for you than humiliation."

Lex blinks against the wind in his eyes as the horse's gallop gains speed. "What are you talking about?!"

* * *

An earth-shattering snore woke Lex up. He sat up from his crumpled position on the couch, wondering what he was doing crumpled up on the couch and where the snore came from when he was completely alone in the study. From the spot of drool on the arm of the couch where his head had rested and the nearly empty bottle of scotch on the table next to him, he soon realized that the snoring had been his own and that he had just awakened from a troubled and drunken sleep.

The next question: What on earth could have possessed him to get drunk again after all the humiliation he had already caused himself while under the influence?

The dream he had came flowing back to him, its fictional nature eluding his memory for the moment, and he stood up in a panic, looking around the room for his cell phone. Clark had spilled their relationship to everyone! How could he?!

A sharp stab of pain in his head sent him promptly back to the couch with his hands clenched tightly against his temples. He took some deep breaths and willed his heartbeat to descend from his head back to his chest where it belonged. As he calmed himself, he remembered that the dream was really just a dream.

He also remembered the day before when he was supposed to meet Clark at the Talon. He felt so foolish for running away like a frightened child, but his instinct for flight had overrode his reason. When he had arrived at the Talon and saw Clark talking to Lionel, _Lionel_ of all people, Lex had panicked. The memory of the dream in which Clark had been fighting with the king had returned to him so vividly that he couldn't help but feel that he was reliving it somehow, that both Clark and Lionel had been up to no good and that something terrible was about to happen.

He had been so shaken that running away and getting drunk—again—seemed to be the only logical solution. The slow churning of acid in his intestines made him sorely wish that he had rethought that plan.

Guilt over ditching Clark was also taking its toll on Lex. He knew now that it was more than just the dream that had made him run. Seeing Clark with the one person he trusted less than anyone else in his life, Lionel, had awakened many of the feelings that Lex had been desperately trying to quell since he and Clark had become a couple. Feelings that, though he had tried to tell himself otherwise, had also been stirred up by the dream of seeing Clark fight with the king. Feelings of suspicion.

What was Clark keeping from him? Why wouldn't he just be honest? Lex knew that it had something to do with superhuman strength and speed, and he assumed that it had to be tied in with all the other weird occurrences in Smallville. He just couldn't understand why Clark refused to be honest with him.

He was also confused as to the fact that Clark was lying about the dreams. This had seemed like the one thing they could be completely honest about because it was something that involved both of them equally. But Clark had clammed up about the "killing king" dream even though it was clear he knew something about it. Even though it was _vividly_ clear that Clark had recognized that royal green robe in the museum.

Clark and Lionel. Clark and the king. Clark and Lex's father. Lex chanted these thoughts over and over, unsure of how to proceed. The parallels between the dream and reality were uncanny. A conversation between Clark and Lex's father, a heated conversation in which Lex's father was clearly holding something over Clark's head, a secret that Clark, even now, refused to share with Lex. Through the painful resistance of his hangover, Lex went over the details he had absorbed during the brief glimpse he had taken of the exchange in the Talon.

…Had Lionel been gripping something in his pocket?

Before Lex could go any further down that road of thought, there was a timid knock at the door. He couldn't imagine who would possibly knock on his study door and not enter immediately, wondered if that had ever actually happened, in fact, and as it seemed to be happening now, he said in a questioning tone, "Come in?"

The door slowly opened, and Clark peeked into the room. "Hi," he said almost inaudibly.

Lex felt the guilt pour through him anew, but he got up from his seated position slowly this time, remembering the pounding in his head that he was just barely holding at bay with his deep breaths. "Hello, Clark."

Seeming at least somewhat relieved, Clark ventured further into the room, his eyes low. "Missed you yesterday."

"Clark, I'm sorry I didn't show up. I had a…"

Clark looked into Lex's eyes, then, as if he could already read from Lex's tone of voice that a bad excuse was coming. Lex quickly realized that another lie wasn't going to help anything, so he stood a little straighter and said what he had to say.

"Why were you talking to my father yesterday?"

Clark's eyes widened and his voice rose. "You were there?"

"Long enough to see you two huddled together, yes," Lex replied cautiously.

"Huddled? Lex, we weren't huddled. He practically pounced on me!"

"Why, Clark? What could he possibly want with you?" The tone in his voice was more interrogational than he would have liked, but it was too late to take it back.

Clark's expression made it clear that this particular tone wasn't exactly unfamiliar to him, and he shook his head with exasperation, threw his hands into the air in a gesture of giving up. "To plot with me, of course."

"What?"

"You heard me. Lionel wanted to check in with me to make sure that all the components of our evil plan are in place."

"Clark, I'm serious," Lex began.

"So am I!" Clark spat. "I mean, this is what you wanted to hear right? This is why you're nursing another hangover. Why you ran out on me yesterday? You have obviously figured out what's going on. You've caught us red handed. Your father and I are plotting to take over Smallville."

Lex took a step forward. "There's no need to be sarcastic, Clark."

"Well, being defensive hasn't done me much good, has it? No matter what I ever say or do, no matter how often I try to show you what you mean to me, all you can do is be suspicious of me!"

"That's because all you ever do is _lie_!" Lex hissed.

Clark's eyes fluttered as angry tears threatened to break through.

"So we're back on that now," Clark whispered shakily.

"Were we ever off of it? Really, Clark?"

"No. No." Clark shook his head and turned around, heading for the door.

"Oh, great, Clark. Things get tough and you walk away. Real constructive!" Lex called after him.

Clark turned back then, and came at Lex with such velocity that Lex had to chastise his own limbs for wanting to scurry backwards and out of harm's way. Clark was suddenly right up in his face, jabbing a steel fingertip into his chest.

"No, Lex, running away is _your _gig, not mine! I have bailed you out of so many life and death situations that I've totally lost count! I have saved your life, I mean, _literally_ saved your life on an average of three times a month since I've known you, if not more!"

"You're hurting me, Clark," Lex stammered, trying to back away from Clark's pointing finger.

"And what do I get in return?" Clark steamrolled over Lex's objection. "Suspicion and mistrust! Oh, yeah, and I get left with your creepy dad eyeballing me like I'm a bleeding prime rib and asking me questions about some museum exhibit that it was your idea to go to in the first place! You couldn't even stick around and help me!"

"I panicked, okay?" Lex shouted, backing out of Clark's way and crossing the room to his desk. "It was a stupid move, and I should have stayed. But, Clark, it doesn't change anything. You have been less than honest with me since we met, and believe me, I have tried to be patient with you, but I'm losing the battle. And now that my father is involved, it is more important than ever that you tell me what is really going on!"

"I don't know what's going on! Your dad wanted to know why we were at the exhibit! That's the truth! I'm not lying about anything!"

"You're lying about the dreams! I know you dreamed about killing the king!"

That stopped Clark short. He made a short clicking noise in his throat as he flailed to maintain his balance. "What?" he finally said.

"And please, for once, stop with the denials. I saw your reaction to the list on my computer. I saw your reaction to the king's robe at the museum."

Clark took a deep breath, seeming on the verge of another denial. But then he changed his mind. "Okay. You're right. I had the dream."

"Why would you keep that from me?" Lex demanded. "Of all things, I thought that at least _this_ is something that you could be honest about! That we're in together!"

"I'm scared, Lex!" Clark responded. "Something is going on here, something bigger than we thought. That dream terrified me. And now Lionel is saying that he funded the exhibit… What if he knows something? What if he's doing this to us?"

"_Lionel_ is funding the exhibit?" Lex put is hand over his forehead, his headache increasing with each passing second. "Of course. Why the hell didn't I know that?"

"You _would_ have known if you had stayed to defend me," Clark declared.

"I know, Clark. I told you that was stupid of me. But when I saw you two together, I panicked. I couldn't help but remember the dream of you fighting with the king and then killing him."

"Wait, what?" Clark held a hand up in protest. "You had that dream too?"

"You know I did. You saw it on my computer."

Clark scrunched his eyebrows together, remembering. "Right, right. I guess I didn't think of that. But I don't understand. That dream was from my point of view. If you had the dream too, then…"

"I saw it from my point of view. After I left you in the clearing, I heard a noise and came back. I watched you fight with the king from the trees."

Clark absorbed this for a moment. "And you didn't come to defend me," he finally intoned. "No surprise there."

"Well, from my particular vantage point, it didn't seem like you needed much defending, Clark," Lex snapped. "Or did I just imagine the gaping hole you made in my father's throat?"

Lex gasped at his slip, and at the fact that he was positive that he could see at least an inch of white all the way around Clark's irises.

"Your _father?!_" Clark nearly shrieked.

"Shit," Lex mumbled, the veins in his temples pounding a fierce tattoo.

"The king is your freaking _father?!_ God, Lex, what else are you keeping from me?!"

"_Was_ my father, Clark. He _was…_ Oh, what the hell am I even saying? It was only a dream!" Lex made a beeline for the bar. Water, brandy, pills… anything to subdue the blazing fire consuming his head.

"Don't do that, okay?" Clark followed him. "Don't give me that 'it's just a dream' crap."

"Shit." Lex dropped the water bottle.

"Whatever! This has all been going on way too long, and we have seen too many coincidences for all of it to just be… a coincidence! These are not simple dreams, and you know it as well as I do!"

Lex grabbed another bottle and unscrewed the cap. "Clark, please don't yell," he said, lifting the bottle to his mouth with a shaky hand.

"And you're calling _me_ a liar!" Clark kept right on yelling. "I'd say you've been spinning a few yarns of your own lately, and you can't tell me I'm wrong about that."

Quickly losing his ability to retaliate as his headache became even more intense, Lex put the bottle down and clamped his hands onto the edge of the bar, leaning against it for support as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"I'm talking to you, Lex!" Clark said, now too far out of Lex's consciousness for it to matter much.

Lex tried to force all thoughts out of his head and just focus on his breathing. He was doing rather well at this when he became distantly aware of Clark yelling again.

Actually, no. Not yelling this time. Lex's head was _reacting_ as if to Clark's yelling, but Clark wasn't yelling at all. He was merely standing closer now. Speaking right into Lex's ear, as a matter of fact.

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" Clark whispered into his ear gently, the coldness in his voice finally dissipating. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down Lex's neck which on better days would have traveled like an electric current down to his groin. Today it simply stopped in his stomach with a splat, causing a dangerous churning that wanted to come up. He kept it down.

"You do this to me, baby," he attempted. Even without looking, he could tell Clark was rolling his eyes. He felt strong arms around him then, about to pick him up. "No," he said. "No carrying me up to bed this time. Just help me to the couch, okay?"

Clark nodded and walked Lex to the couch, much of his body in contact with Lex's the whole way. So apparently Clark was ready to give up on the fight. At least for now. Good.

The warmth of Clark's body surrounded Lex, almost seemed to have a healing effect on his queasy stomach and his pounding head. It was also working wonders on his fears, his jealousies, his questions, on all of the silly emotions that had led to this latest round of binge drinking in the first place. And with Clark so close now, touching, breathing, loving, those old emotions did seem silly. Even distant. Also good.

They made it to the couch and Clark maneuvered them both down into a seated position where Clark was sitting back against the arm and Lex was swept into his large embrace, his head resting against Clark's chest. The movement had been so seamless and quick, Lex was startled by it. Not that he wasn't used to seamless and quick in relation to Clark. Freakishly quick may have been a better way to put it.

_Damn_, he thought. Apparently _that_ thought was a little more stubborn than the others. He could forget about seeing Clark and Lionel together in the Talon. Like Clark said, it was just Lionel being Lionel. It wasn't a betrayal of any kind on Clark's part.

But this damn secret of Clark's… Was it just going to be hanging over them forever? Clark had seen Lex at his very most vulnerable on so many occasions. When would Clark finally feel safe enough to open up?

"What are you thinking?" Clark said lovingly, if somewhat cautiously.

"Wondering how you got us into this position in one movement." It slipped out. _Shit._

Clark's breath caught lightly in his chest. When it started up again, he didn't say anything for a long time. Lex lifted his head to look up into Clark's eyes and found them focused on the door like he was thinking about taking off.

"Are you leaving?" Lex asked, ashamed of himself for ruining the good turn things had started to take.

"Do you want me to leave?" Clark asked quietly, eyes still on the door.

Then it was Lex who didn't speak for a moment. He hated being put in the position of asking for things. He didn't like to admit how much he needed this. But for Clark…

"No, of course not," he finally whispered.

The tension drained from Clark's body then as his large arms swallowed Lex up and his warm hands covered the back of Lex's head as he pulled him closer. Lex closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth, enjoying the relief he felt knowing that Clark would stay with him for a while, and that his show of vulnerability hadn't gone unrewarded.

"I had another dream last night," Lex ventured. He felt movement underneath him as Clark nodded in agreement.

"Me too."

"Same one?" Lex asked.

"Probably."

"You humiliated me by exposing our relationship to the entire court." Lex felt Clark nod again.

"Yep," Clark said. "That's the one."

"Shitty," Lex commentated.

"I told you I had to do it," Clark countered.

"Why did you have to?"

"I don't know yet. I guess I'll find out with the next dream." They shared a short pause. Then Clark spoke again, softly, anxiously. "Were you really humiliated by me?"

Lex craned his neck up to look Clark in the eye, his cheek remaining comfortably attached to Clark's chest.

"Yes," he replied honestly. Clark pursed his lips. "But it was a dream."

"So you're saying you're not humiliated by me now?" Clark challenged.

"I'm proud of you, Clark," Lex breathed. "I'm proud to say that I'm with you. I guess I got over my internalized homophobia in my past life."

"You wouldn't be saying that if everyone knew about us," Clark said sadly, ignoring Lex's joke.

Lex sighed. "The public knowing about us would make things…difficult. You're right about that. But it's you that I'm most worried about, Clark, not myself. You know I already have something of a bad-boy reputation. For the press to find out that I'm dating a guy would only be a momentary scandal for me. But to put you under that kind of scrutiny is something I could never forgive myself for."

Clark thought of all the times that his father had warned him about staying out of harm's way, specifically the kind of harm that could bring too much attention to him, potentially exposing his secret to the world. It made him feel wonderful that Lex had his best interests at heart the same way that his parents did.

"Thank you, Lex," he said, barely audibly.

They lay there for a long time, breathing, sharing the space. The sun shone in through the large windows and warmed them as they warmed each other. Lex felt Clark checking periodically to see if he had fallen asleep. But Lex remained conscious throughout, never letting his eyes close. The fight had shaken him badly, and he felt an urgency to enjoy this closeness and affection, an urgency that hadn't been present before. The possibility of losing this was much more painful for him than he had ever thought it could be. He wondered if Clark felt the same.

Then he felt Clark's chest hitch slightly and his diaphragm spasm with a stifled giggle.

"What?" Lex asked.

"Let's go back to my house and watch a movie."

Lex sighed. "We can watch a movie here, Clark. You know I'm better equipped for it."

"I seriously doubt you have the movie I want to watch."

"What movie is it?"

"'Blazing Saddles.'"

Lex lifted his head to look up at Clark. "What the hell is 'Blazing Saddles?'"

"Madeline Kahn is in it. Does anything else really matter?"

Clark smiled at Lex, his smile infectious even though it was still cautious. Lex felt his heart break a little when he thought of the innocence of their earlier time together. Their night of pizza and champagne and accidental innuendo. He supposed he knew things couldn't stay that innocent forever, knew that they never did. But, _man,_ that night had been sweet.

Lex wasn't much for relationships. He hadn't ever stayed with anyone long enough to see the sweet turn sour. He had certainly watched it happen to other couples, though. He wondered if that was the natural progression of things. He hoped it wasn't.

"Lex?"

"Yeah?"

"If you're not into the movie idea…"

"No!" Lex said. "I mean, yeah! Yeah. I'm into it. Let's go to your place."

"You sure? How's your head doing?" Clark put his hands on either side of Lex's face to examine him in a gesture that would be insulting from anyone else. From Clark, though, it was perfect.

"It's fine," Lex croaked.

"Good."

Clark lifted them both up off of the couch in another movement that was far too smooth to go unnoticed. But Lex decided to let it go. Clark's energy was already lifting, and Lex wanted to be lifted up with it. They began the ascent to Lex's bedroom so that he could change his clothes.

He wondered if ignoring all of the obvious secrecy in order to enjoy the present moment was a reckless move. But then Clark kissed his cheek. A sweet, unassuming kiss, motivated only by the goodness of that which is Clark.

Lex decided that reckless was something he could live with.


	9. Sugar Crystal Revelations

Title: Sugar Crystal Revelations

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 9

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

A/N: Almost there! One more chapter after this and an epilogue. Leave a review for me? Please please please? I promise not to tell anyone you read slash. ;)

* * *

"Do you think I don't know what you really are?"

Clark feels the tension consuming every muscle in his body, the restraint that is only barely holding him back from committing a violent act.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Clark responds.

"Witches, indeed," scoffs the king. "You and your clan are ever so much more than circle-sitting tree worshippers, and we both know it."

"This isn't what we are here to talk about," Clark seethes, reminding himself of the importance of this meeting.

"Oh, yes of course," the king smiles. "The treaty."

The king looks around at the moonlit foliage of the clearing. He looks over Clark's shoulder and into the distance where he can see several campfires. A low murmur of whispered voices can be made out from the trees as Clark's people watch and listen to the conversation that could change their course of action.

"We want a peaceful resolution," Clark says, voicing the unintelligible words of his clan.

"You don't want a peaceful resolution," the king replies calmly. "You want to rip me to shreds."

"I _understand _that a peaceful resolution is the most prudent way to go," Clark amends, clenching his fists. "In light of…"

"In light of your involvement with my son," the king blurts.

Clark gasps and feels a shift in his perception. He is suddenly transported from the clearing in the woods to a table at the Talon where he is seated across from Lionel.

"It has come to my attention that you and my son made a visit to the museum several days ago," Lionel says smugly.

Clark blinks his eyes several times, adjusting to the shift. His memory of speaking to the king begins to fade, but his agitation remains in place.

"I-I'm working on a report," he replies, feeling as though he is reciting from a script. His urge to attack Lionel is overwhelming, and he is frightened by that urge. He feels simultaneously intimidated and filled with deadly animosity. The blood pounding through his head drowns out Lionel's next few words, but he hears something about an exhibit.

"You wouldn't happen to have any more information about it, would you? I'd be so grateful if you could shed more light on the subject," Lionel continues, his voice barely audible to Clark.

The animosity begins to fade as Clark finally sinks into this new reality, and he prepares to make up a lie about why he and Lex had gone to the museum. But before he can begin, there is another shift, and he finds himself back in the woods, staring into the beady eyes of the king.

"Why don't they come out and speak for themselves?" the king demands loudly, motioning toward the whispers in the trees which become louder, disapproving.

Shaking his head as he tries to keep up, Clark holds up a hand to silence his people.

"We didn't want to make you feel as though you were being coerced," he answers. "A treaty between our families is not something we're forcing you to agree to. But it is in the best interest of everyone involved if we can peacefully resolve—"

"And then what?" the king interrupts. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that you'll stop here? Once you have a foothold with the royal family, what's to stop you from pushing your way into total domination?"

"You're talking to _me_ about total domination?" Clark responds, unable to help himself.

"My ancestors established this kingdom," the king spits. "My subjects owe me their very existence, and they all know it. What makes you think you can land in my territory and disrupt the order that has been upheld for centuries?"

Clark's steels his shoulders. "What do you mean _'land?'"_

"Could it have anything to do," the king continues, ignoring Clark's question, "with the twin crystal you're seeking?"

Clark feels his own crystal stir in its pouch next to his pounding heart. A string of curses leaps up his throat, but before they can fly from his mouth, he feels another shift.

"Nothing wrong with the pursuit of knowledge, boy," Lionel says to him.

With a slow burning headache lighting its small flame inside his head, Clark observes that he is in the Talon again, the king's statement about a twin crystal still ringing in his ears. And suddenly, he can't help but notice Lionel's tightly clenched fist inside his jacket pocket.

"A twin…" Clark mutters. He feels strongly that he was supposed to have said something else just now. But he also feels like his mind and body are split between two different points in time, centuries apart, so what he is _supposed _to be saying isn't of much consequence to him at this particular moment.

He also feels extremely afraid of Lionel, not for his own sake, but because of the threat that Lionel poses to Lex.

"Thank you so much for your time," Lionel barks, clearly not hearing what Clark said. He stands up and walks away. Clark stands up and yells after him.

"What do you mean twin crystal?!"

Clark doesn't get to see if Lionel will respond to his question, as another shimmering rip back in time sets him down in front of the king once more.

"You're a fool if you think I'll give it over," the king says.

"I'll find it," Clark returns menacingly.

The king laughs scornfully. "What are you going to do? Kill me?" Clark answers with a snarl. "Go ahead then," the king says. "And see what happens to your precious knight."

"He's your son," Clark replies defiantly.

But the king doesn't have to respond. The cold of his stare is enough to convince Clark that he is capable of anything, even hurting Lex. Clark realizes in this moment that the treaty is never going to work, and that Lex is already in great danger because of his involvement with the enemy. Clark has to do whatever it takes to get Lex away from the king, whether Lex agrees with that or not.

With another shift, Clark finds himself in a brand new place, no sign of the king or Lionel in sight. He is now lying in his oversized hammock in the hayloft. It's mid afternoon and the orange sunlight is shining lazily in threw the open window. Clark realizes with a not unpleasant jump of his heart that Lex is lying next to him. But it isn't bald billionaire Lex of Smallville. It's Sir Lex, the gallant knight.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Clark asks the sleeping man at his side.

This alternate version of Lex whimpers quietly in his sleep. He turns his face toward Clark who gasps in adoration as Lex's full head of dark brown hair gently drifts across his forehead, his gorgeous locks shining in the warm light. This Lex is so different in appearance that Clark almost feels guilty for the overwhelming love this face triggers in him. As if hearing this thought, Lex awakens and stares with large brown eyes at Clark. He smiles a smile that is somehow not Lex at all, and at the same time, the very essence of Lex.

"It's okay," Lex says. "It's just me."

"I feel like I haven't seen you in three hundred years," Clark whispers reverently.

"But we find each other every time," Lex replies. "Have I found you this time? Or are you still waiting?"

A hint of a smirk on this Lex's face, exactly like the expression twenty-first century Lex always offers, and Clark's heart fills with agonizing warmth. He nods.

"Yes. You've found me."

Lex runs a hand through Clark's rumpled hair.

"Am I being good to you?"

Clark hesitates, pouting thoughtfully. "Sometimes."

"Are you being good to me?"

Clark nods. "I try to be. I mean… I love you."

He feels embarrassed and vulnerable, and he fights to maintain eye contact with Lex. He didn't mean for that to come out, has actually never said that to Lex before. But he knows it's right, and he's sticking to it.

"Are you being honest with me? With your version of me, I mean?"

This time, Clark does avert his eyes as he is filled with a feeling of shame.

"Clark, you have to be honest with me. With him. With the other me. Tell him the secret. Things don't tend to...work out…when we aren't honest with each other."

"What do you mean?" Clark asks, worried. "Did it…end badly between us last time?"

Lex doesn't reply. Instead, he leans in and kisses Clark gently on his right cheek, then his left cheek, then his nose. Clark tingles at the familiarity and awaits the final kiss which Lex dutifully provides, slowly and tenderly, to his lips.

"Tell him," Lex whispers.

Too caught up in the moment to keep conversing about real-life worries, Clark leans in again and catches Lex's lips with his own. Lex smiles and complies. But halfway through the kiss, a high-pitched squeal emanates from Lex, and Clark opens his eyes with a start. Lex is gone…

* * *

…and Clark is kissing Chloe. Chloe is screaming. Chloe is screaming into Clark's mouth. Clark has a death grip on Chloe. Clark decides to let Chloe go.

"Oh, my holy God, Clark, what the _hell_ are you doing?!"

Chloe stumbled back and away from the hammock where she had been kneeling next to Clark's head.

Clark sat upright like a shot, rocking the hammock, and nearly falling out onto the wooden floor of the loft. The sun was still shining in, but not quite as prettily as in his dream. He instinctively looked around for Sir Lex, somehow irrationally worried that Chloe might see him. But Lex was gone. Clark couldn't help but be a little sad about that.

"Well?" Chloe barked breathlessly, hands on hips, face on fire. "Are you going to answer me? What was that about?"

"Chloe, I…" Clark stammered. "I thought you were…"

Chloe let the air out of her lungs with a whoosh and put her hands over her eyes in embarrassment. "Don't tell me you were having another sex dream."

"It wasn't a sex dream!" Clark shouted.

"No?" Chloe peeked at him between her fingers.

"Yet."

"Oh, God, Clark! I can't believe you thought I was Lex!" Chloe stormed to the window and breathed deeply.

"Chloe, I'm really sorry," Clark apologized, stumbling his way out of the hammock and only barely managing to stay on his feet. "If it makes you feel better, it was 17th century Lex."

"No, it doesn't," she answered without turning around.

"So what, you're not even going to look at me?" Clark asked.

"Not until you get dressed."

For what felt like the millionth time, Clark looked down at himself and realized that he was only wearing his boxers.

"Why am I always naked?" he said to himself in exasperation.

"I'll assume that was rhetorical," Chloe uttered.

Clark went back to the hammock where his clothes were resting on a chair and began to get dressed.

"Why _are_ you in your underwear?" Chloe asked. "In the barn, in the middle of the afternoon?"

"Is _that_ rhetorical?" Clark asked, zipping up his jeans.

"Well, after my brief cameo as Sir Lex-a-Lot in Kent Dreams Most Sordid, I think I ought to know."

"I was lying in the hammock, and I got hot," he explained.

"Hot, like, temperature-wise? Or…" A hint of mischief adorned Chloe's tone.

"Don't be crude," Clark rebuffed. "You know I meant temperature-wise."

"Oh, right, of course," Chloe nodded, folding her arms across her chest. "You get overheated so you take off your clothes. How logical." She shook her head. "Boys are so weird."

Clark put a hand on Chloe's shoulder to let her know she could turn back around. She turned cautiously and then relaxed when she saw Clark back in suitable attire, the ever-reliable blue jeans and plaid flannel shirt.

"This is my personal space, Chloe. I've done more shocking things than take off my clothes here."

Chloe crinkled her nose. "If these hay bales could talk."

"They would scream in ecstasy," Clark giggled.

"Now who's being crude?" Chloe smiled in return.

A moment of silence passed. Their familiar banter had succeeded in relaxing them.

"I am sorry, Chloe. You know I would never intentionally…"

"Kiss me? Nice." She slapped his shoulder with an expression of feigned heartbreak.

"It was an accident," Clark finished.

Chloe nodded. "I know. It just took me by surprise, that's all. I guess I should have known better than to try to wake you when you were obviously in the middle of a dream."

"It's okay. I hadn't been planning on falling asleep anyway. It just sort of happened."

"I see. So, was this your average, everyday run-of-the-mill steamy love dream about a former incarnation of your boyfriend, or was it another part of the storyline you and Lex have been subconsciously uncovering?"

Clark shook his head, mystified. "Honestly? It felt like both. There were parts that did feel like just a normal dream. But there were other parts that put me back in Scotland, showing me a piece of what happened before the last dream."

"They're still coming in backwards order, then?" Chloe pressed, intrigued. "That's so Hollywood."

"It's so frustrating," Clark said. "And this last dream was something different altogether. One minute I was arguing with the king, and the next I was back in the Talon being interrogated by Lionel. Back and forth the whole time. I felt like my head was going to explode."

"Back in the Talon? You were dreaming about the other day when Lionel interrupted us?" Chloe raised her eyebrows, growing more excited.

"Yeah, so?" Clark shrugged. "I was upset by it. You know that."

"And was there anything different about the conversation? Or did it pretty much play out like it actually happened?"

Clark stared past Chloe and out the open window of the loft thoughtfully, going over the dream in his mind. "I don't remember any differences. Except that I was so confused because I kept jumping back and forth in time."

"Mmm," Chloe said.

"Oh…" Clark started.

"What?"

"I guess there was one difference, a tiny one. I'm not really sure what it means, but it feels significant to me. Lionel was clutching his hand tightly in his jacket pocket."

Chloe nodded. "Do you remember him doing that during the actual conversation?"

"No, I don't. But like I said, I was pretty nervous when it was really happening."

"Maybe that's why the memory was interspersed with your dream," Chloe suggested. "Your subconscious mind could have been trying to remind you of that important detail."

"Yeah, but why would that be important?" Clark asked doubtfully. "He could have been clutching his cell phone for all I know."

"Or maybe a magic crystal," Chloe stated slyly.

Clark gasped. "How did you know about that?!"

"And now we've come to the reason, other than the accidental smooch, for my barging into your Barn of Iniquity and waking you from your afternoon nap!"

Chloe practically skipped from the window to Clark's desk where she had put down her purse. She opened it up and fished through it until she found what she was looking for; a small, vibrantly green flash drive which she held up to show Clark with a flourish of her free hand.

"What is that?" Clark asked.

"This, my friend, is illegally obtained information from the hard drive of one Lionel Luthor. But if you repeat that, I'll deny it."

Clark came closer to get a better look at the drive. "You stole that?"

"Stole what?" Chloe said with an innocent bat of her eyes.

"Chloe, that's dangerous!" Clark said, worrying his eyebrows as he pointed to the flash drive with a shaky finger.

"Oh, Clark, you're so cute when you're moral," Chloe said. She slipped the drive back into her purse. "I was careful."

"How did you get close enough to Lionel to get that?"

"I didn't have to get close to him. I've been hacking the Luthor computer network for over a year," Chloe smiled brightly as though telling Clark about a new sweater that she had finished knitting.

"You what? Why didn't you ever tell me about that?" Clark shook his head in disbelief.

"Because I knew you'd get all righteous on me and make a big thing out of it," Chloe returned. "Besides, I'm a reporter. My sources are confidential and, sometimes, dangerous. I wouldn't even be telling you now except that it concerns you."

"And you're telling me that something on that network gave you information about the dreams that I've been having?"

"Not to be immodest, Clark," Chloe nodded, "but I hit the jackpot."

* * *

Seated at Chloe's side at her desk in the Torch, Clark noticed that the green flash drive perfectly matched the green computer that it was now plugged into. He wondered absently why he hadn't ever noticed that before.

"What are you looking at?" Chloe was busy typing password after password to unlock her industrially walled-up computer files, and still had enough attention left over to observe Clark's behavior.

_Star reporter, _Clark thought with a grin.

"Where's your duck?" Clark asked, seeing no reason to bring up his own lack of attention.

Chloe stopped typing long enough to glare at Clark pointedly. "He's having major surgery for critical injuries sustained in the work place."

"Huh?" Clark wondered.

Chloe opened a desk drawer and pointed inside, where lay a nearly flattened yellow duck. "You smashed him with your ass, remember?"

"Oh, right. Sorry."

Chloe slammed the drawer shut again, and continued typing until her computer emitted a perky electronic chime. "I'm in," she said.

"You say that as if you just hacked into the Pentagon," Clark joked.

"I have to take precautions, you know?" Chloe defended herself. "This computer holds a lot of sensitive information."

"Like whatever you're about to show me?" Clark asked.

Chloe shook her head. "Nope. That's a little _too _sensitive. I downloaded that info straight to my flash drive so that I can keep it with me at all times."

Clark broke into a half smile, thinking that Chloe was joking with him. But the serious expression remained on her face. "Are you kidding?" Clark demanded unsurely.

"I wish I were," she said. "But I meant it when I said I hit the jackpot. Judging from the amount of work Lionel has done on this subject, plus how hard it was for me to get to it, I'd say the Scottish Witches have been his life's study."

"Which means that if he knew you have a copy of his work…" Clark began fearfully.

"Big trouble," Chloe finished. Then with a click of her mouse, a document appeared on the screen. "You already know everything in the first few pages, plus a few details that Lionel isn't privy to, thanks to your dreams. Start here."

Chloe scrolled down and then rotated the computer screen slightly so Clark could see it. He leaned in to begin reading, and Chloe leaned in with him causing their shoulders to knock into each other lightly. He leaned back again and gave her a sideways look.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is this a personal moment?" Chloe snipped.

"You've already read it!" Clark said defensively.

"I want to see your reaction," she retorted.

"What is this, a hidden camera show?"

"Fine!" With a huff, Chloe got up from her seat and swished to the desk across from Clark where she sat down and began hammering away at the keys on the second computer.

Clark leaned in to his own screen again and began to read.

_August 12, 2002_

_I have finally found what I believe to be the most vital piece of my research. Heretofore, a noteworthy portion of the records and evidence that I have unearthed about Luthor ancestry in regards to my family's affiliation with the purported Scottish Witches, has pointed to the existence of a powerful crystal. I have supposed for some time that the king was in possession of this crystal in the form of an ornate ruby pendant, the likeness of which I have seen in many documents and portraits, but I could never be sure of the survival of said artifact despite my attempts to locate it._

_Today, however, is a momentous day. I have found the crystal, minus its pendant presentation, in, of all unlikely places, Smallville, Kansas. The red crystal is identical in appearance to every historical description and painting. _

_I have no way of knowing at this juncture whether this crystal was in the possession of the king with the knowledge of the witches, perhaps as a token of peace given at the time of their attempted treaty (although I find this option doubtful considering the reported power this crystal wields), or if the king obtained the crystal by stealth. _

_Regardless, I will be making every effort to discover if indeed there is any power to be had by the use of this precious gem, thereby better understanding the true nature of these mysterious and little-heard-of Scottish Witches. _

After reaching the end of the passage, Clark pulled slowly away from the computer screen and tipped his seat back in unfettered astonishment. He didn't even notice that Chloe's furious typing had ceased minutes earlier and that she was now staring at him, waiting for a reaction.

"It's all true," Clark finally uttered in a broken whisper. "It all really happened. And I was there. Somehow I was there." He let out a soft, ironic laugh and shook his head.

"Maybe," Chloe halfway agreed, rolling her seat back to Clark's side of the desk. "But if that's true, then we're diving headfirst into the idea of reincarnation." Clark looked at Chloe blankly. "Past lives," she went on skeptically. "Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Unless…maybe…you and Lex have both heard this story somewhere before and forgot about it. Now it's just being pulled up by your subconscious and making you _think _that you really experienced it—"

"Chloe, that's not it," Clark interrupted. "I'm not making this up. _Lex _isn't making it up. Do you really think we would both learn about such a strange story and then totally forget hearing it?"

"I know it seems odd, Clark," Chloe said, putting a hand on Clark's shoulder to keep him calm. "But the alternative makes even less sense."

"And how do you explain the fact that we are having the dreams in consistent order? And that we both started having the dreams at the same time?" Clark pressed.

Chloe shook her head. "I can't explain it, Clark. But this wouldn't be the first time we've crossed paths with the unexplainable, would it?"

"If you had had the dreams, you would understand," Clark argued as he got to his feet and paced the room in agitation. "This can't be just a story I heard somewhere. This is something I _lived._ I know it."

Clark stopped next to the Wall of Weird and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked.

"There's got to be something I'm missing," Clark grumbled.

"Well, I don't know if you're aware of it," Chloe said, "but you're standing right next to the one avenue we haven't explored, and it may be the one we should have started with."

Clark blinked the exhaustion out of his eyes and stared at Chloe, then followed her gaze to her wall collage of strange happenings in Smallville.

"The Wall of Weird?" he asked.

"The meteor rocks!" Chloe announced. She wagged her hand at Clark, signaling him to come back to her side. "Come over here and look at this document again."

"I read the whole thing," he barked defiantly.

"Why do you think I had you read this passage of Lionel's journal, Clark?"

"Because I knew everything that happened up until that point. You said that yourself," Clark answered back.

"That's right. _And_ I was hoping that you would pick up on the fact that Lionel is talking about a _crystal_." Chloe exaggerated the word with an emphasis that added extra syllables.

"You think the crystal is a meteor rock?" Clark asked doubtfully.

"I think it's possible," Chloe agreed. "And even if it's not, I'd bet my VW that meteor rocks _still _have everything to do with what's going on here."

"But how can the crystal be a meteor rock?" Clark argued. "If it has been around since the 17th century?"

"Maybe there was a meteor shower in the 17th century," Chloe suggested.

"But the crystal is red," Clark argued again.

"Maybe it was a red meteor shower," Chloe shot back.

"Assuming there _was_ a meteor shower."

"Assuming you actually _were_ in Scotland three hundred years ago."

"I _was _there, Chloe!" Clark shouted.

"Or maybe what feels like memory recollection to you and Lex is really a meteor-induced phenomenon!" Chloe exclaimed. "Why are you so unwilling to consider other possibilities?"

"Why do you refuse to believe in me?!" Clark nearly screamed. "I know my own mind!"

"You wouldn't be the first meteor-infected person to say so," Chloe said under her breath, unable to stop herself.

"Aaaah!" Clark growled. He stomped back to the desk and plopped into his chair, rotating the computer screen roughly to look at it again. "There's got to be something else here."

"What about the museum exhibit?" Chloe offered. "Didn't you say the red pendant was on display with the king's robes?"

Clark shook his head abruptly. "It had to be a fake. Lionel would never put it out in the open like that where anyone could get to it."

"And you never noticed the pendant in your dreams? Wouldn't you have recognized it as the missing crystal when the king had it swinging around his neck?"

"Look, I don't know, Chloe," Clark answered impatiently. "The king wasn't exactly my favorite person. I guess I just didn't notice it."

Chloe opened her mouth to protest, then gave up with a sigh. She slid out of her seat and clopped to the coffee machine, throwing up her hands as she went in a gesture of surrender. She was halfway through pouring a cup when Clark leaped in his chair behind her.

"I got it!" he shouted. "Look at the date on this!"

"I already noticed that," Chloe intoned as she blew on her coffee. "August 12 was just a couple of months ago. So?"

"Chloe, that was exactly a week before I had my first dream!"

"No way!" Chloe grabbed a handful of sugar packets and came back to Clark's side, mechanically opening each one and emptying them into her coffee cup.

"Of course! I can't believe I didn't pick that up before. Lionel finding the crystal must have brought back memories of my former life with Lex." Clark leaned back in his chair, folding his arms in satisfaction.

"Romantic as that sounds, Clark, do you think Lionel did something with the crystal to make you _think_ you're having memories?" Chloe was still busy sugaring up her beverage. "I mean, it says right here that all historical records mention the crystal having enormous power."

"No, I don't, at all," Clark snapped. "It's possible that the crystal falling into Lionel's hands activated it somehow, and now it's helping Lex and me to remember. But I don't believe that the memories aren't mine. They have to be. They're just too real, Chloe. And they're also a good explanation as to why my connection with Lex has been so strong from the very beginning—"

"Well, I'd say your magical teenage hormones would be a safe bet as far as _that's_ concerned," Chloe muttered, still unloading sugar packets.

"—not to mention the fact that Lionel obviously doesn't know there are two crystals—" Clark continued his thought obliviously.

"Oh, I forgot about the other crystal!" Still more sugar.

"—and what _IF_," Clark concluded triumphantly, "the red crystal is trying to alert me so that I can find the white crystal that I used to kill Lionel! I mean the king! I mean that Witch Me used to kill the king!"

"Which you killed the king?" Chloe asked.

"Yes!" Clark shouted.

"Which you?"

"_Witch_ me!"

"That's what I'm asking. Which you?"

"Witch me!"

"No, I mean which you are you talking about, the witch you or the… Am I on a hidden camera show?"

"Are you honestly going to drink that much sugar?" Clark finally noticed the mountain of empty sugar packets next to Chloe's coffee, and he reached out to stop her hands from emptying more into the cup.

"Hey, hands off, Clark! I have miles to go before I sleep!"

In her attempt to bat Clark's hands away from her caffeinated elixir, Chloe unintentionally knocked the mug over and some of the liquid splashed onto her flash drive.

"Oh, no!" she shrieked. She ran back to the table where she kept her coffee machine and grabbed a roll of paper towels which she promptly ushered back to the computer desk. She yanked the drive from the computer and inspected it closely before wiping it down thoroughly with the towels. She noticed Clark's eyes widen as she did so.

"What?" she asked defensively. "This equipment cost a lot of money."

"This equipment cost _Lionel Luthor _a lot of money!" Clark yelled.

"Huh?"

"That's why I hadn't noticed the green flash drive and computer before! This is the equipment you've been telling me about that LuthorCorp just supplied for the Torch! Oh, my God, Chloe!" Clark thrust himself up from his seat and cupped his hand over his mouth.

"I know that, Captain Manic!" Chloe threw away a wad of paper towels nearly the size of her head. "Why the panic attack?"

"You hacked into Lionel's network using Lionel's computer?! Do you honestly think he isn't tracking everything that you do here?!" The timbre of Clark's voice was enough to rattle the windows. "Do you have any idea how much danger you must be in?"

"Do _you_ honestly think I would be stupid enough not to take precautions against Lionel finding out? Take a chill, Clark! I encoded my tracks every step of the way!"

Clark shook his head in disbelief. "You don't have any clue how scheming Lionel is! You know he's been sniffing around, trying to find out what I know about all of this! How do you know he didn't plant this document somewhere he knew you would find it, _knowing_ that you would come to me with it?"

Chloe laughed out loud. "Jeez, Clark, now you're manic _and_ paranoid? I know love does strange things to people, but this is a stretch even for you—"

"Chloe Sullivan?"

Chloe and Clark both jumped as they heard the deep voice from the office door. They jumped again when they saw two large and intimidating male police officers standing there with handcuffs in hand. "Clark Kent?" the second officer said in a booming voice.

"Yeah?" Clark asked cautiously.

"You're both under arrest for the unauthorized infiltration of a guarded network. Please hold out your hands."

Chloe stared at Clark with an open mouth, her wide eyes filling with frightened tears. Clark shook his head, speechless. Afraid to disobey, they both held out their hands, and the officers put Clark and Chloe in cuffs.

"You have the right to remain silent…"


	10. Utterly and Forever

Title: Utterly and Forever

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 10

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

A/N: This _is_ the last chapter, but a brief epilogue will be forthcoming. Thanks again to everyone who has stayed with me!

* * *

Lex feels the stone floor beneath his feet. He feels the wooden stool that he is sitting on. He feels the table where he rests his elbows, and he feels the flickering heat of the candle that lights the room. He feels the king's firm gaze fixated on him, and he feels the dim annoyance imprinted in that gaze when Lex refuses to lift his eyes from his hands.

Lex feels his cloak around his shoulders. He feels his shoulders within his cloak. He feels a rumbling in his stomach that he knows must remain unanswered for hours more. He feels the passing of precious seconds of time, and he feels the ever-growing impatience of the king like a palpable presence in the room. Waiting.

Lex feels a leather pouch around his neck. He doesn't have to touch it to know exactly where it hangs. In his mind, he feels the texture of the worn leather, the smell of the snuff that it holds, and he thinks of his late mother, the queen, to whom the pouch originally belonged. Lex feels his youth slipping away, being steadily replaced by darkness and impossible choices.

Lex feels that he has been here before, on this stone floor, astride this stool, above this table, across from this king, this father. He feels that he is simultaneously moving forward through time and experiencing an old, old memory, as though each moment that transpires is instantly and eternally familiar, but impossible to guess at or predict. Lex feels that the course of his life, of his eternity, is about to change utterly and forever.

* * *

The two officers had arrived at Smallville High in separate cars, and Clark and Chloe had said a nearly wordless goodbye outside the school as they were taken in different directions.

"We'll get out of this," Chloe whispered to Clark.

"Quiet," said the officer escorting Chloe.

Clark barely had a chance to nod before he was standing next to a Metropolis police car. The officer opened the back door and unceremoniously plopped a hand on the top of Clark's head, pushing him down into the seat and slamming the door in his face. Clark took a ragged breath and held it in as the car pulled out of the school's parking lot, weaving through an already growing crowd of dumbstruck students.

* * *

"Speak to me, son," the king murmurs. His raspy voice is surprisingly gentle.

Lex feels the displacement of air hit his ears before he actually hears his father's words.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say," he responds.

The king reaches across the table to rest his gloved hand on top of Lex's. There is concern in his eyes.

"I truly cannot think of another way," the king apologizes.

Lex nods. "I can't either. That's why I'm so afraid."

"Afraid…that you'll say yes?" The king's hand tenses.

"Afraid I have no choice," Lex replies. He removes his hand from beneath his father's.

He feels ashamed.

* * *

Clark looked around nervously. The grim officer guided him out of the back of the police car, hands still in cuffs, and toward the jail to be booked. Clark knew that at any moment, he could free himself of the handcuffs and run away so fast and so far that no police officer would ever be able to find him again. His powerful instincts were telling him to do just that.

But years of parental training prevented him from being so reckless with his abilities. He knew that to run away now would only make things worse. So he took several more deep breaths, staring up at the overcast Metropolis sky, flinching against the cold breeze, and feeling the shadowy presence of the penitentiary looming closer and closer.

* * *

"These witches are too powerful," the king says. "Sheer physical force will never be enough to take them down."

"I know," Lex nods.

"They have to be defeated from within, son," the king goes on.

"I know that," Lex repeats.

"I would never ask you to do this unless I thought it was absolutely necessary. You're the only one I can trust with something so sensitive—"

"Father, stop." Lex holds up a hand. "I know that it's necessary."

The king nods. "You know where to find the young witch in question?"

Lex laughs humorlessly. "I won't have to find him. He shows up everywhere I go. He follows me."

"Repeating the same things to you?"

"Yes. That he knows me somehow. That he wants me to remember. That we _belong_ together," Lex cringes. "Horrid."

"And as yet, you have not engaged in conversation with him?" The king stares heatedly into Lex's eyes.

"No," Lex affirms, slapping the table, causing the candlestick to wobble. "I would never speak to a creature so foul. I would never dignify his blasphemy."

The king bows his head respectfully. "But now you must," he croaks.

Lex shudders.

He feels sick.

* * *

Clark had never felt cold before in his life, but he was pretty sure he felt cold now. He stood in a gray room under horrible fluorescent lights, and he held a plaque in front of his chest with quivering hands as a dismal, overweight photographer with tobacco-stained teeth told him to hold still. Clark's retinas tensed behind his eyes at the blinding camera flash.

"To the left," the robust woman announced with a voice like sandpaper.

Clark turned.

"Your other left, dummy," the woman spat cruelly.

With a hiccup of flustered shame, Clark turned to his _other_ left.

He thought of his mom and dad, the disappointment they would feel when they found out about all of this. Another shiver went through him.

* * *

"You must make him believe that you _do_ remember," the king goes on. "You must make him believe that you wish to turn your back on me and the kingdom. You must _woo_ him, son."

"_I KNOW!!!" _Lex screams, breaking out in a sweat. "Must you continue to torture me?! I know! I have to convince this repulsive heathen that I love him! I know!"

"You must be prepared, son—"

"I _am_ prepared! I am as prepared as I can ever—"

"He will be cunning, you know." The king's voice remains quiet and steady. "He will play on your weaknesses. He will make you doubt what you think you know."

"Do you think that I will forget who I am, Father? Do you think that I will fall for his lies? That I would be so foolish?" Lex feels his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. "How little faith you invest in your so-called only hope."

"He is a powerful witch, my son, a master of lies!" The king doesn't yell, but he takes on a pronounced air of authority. "God only knows the source of his power! I have seen him and his clan do terrible things, and I want you to know exactly what you are up against." The king wrings his hands together nervously and lowers his voice. "This is not some naïve young maiden you can seduce with a pint of ale and a string of pretty words."

"Not even a _maiden_ at all," Lex says with a shudder.

"Your men will marvel at your bravery," the king encourages.

"My men will string me up," Lex argues. But his resolve against his father's plan has already been shattered. The witches are too powerful, and every other tactic against them has failed. The lives of many men have already been lost in battle, and there seems to be no end to the enemy's stamina. "There's nothing to be done about it, I suppose," Lex concedes morosely.

* * *

"Pants," the officer said through a noisy mouthful of chewing gum.

Standing in the middle of another cold, gray room, a shirtless Clark reluctantly took off his pants. Then he promptly brought his hands back together in front of his waist, feeling childish and exposed in his plaid boxers. The same boxers that Lex had lovingly teased him about. He kept his eyes on the floor.

"Pants!" the officer demanded a second time, growing more impatient.

"I already took off my pants," Clark whimpered almost inaudibly.

"Everything comes off," the officer bellowed, gesturing at Clark's underwear.

Clark hesitated. The only person he wanted to see him naked was Lex. He felt humiliated taking off his clothes in front of a total stranger.

"Lex, please help me," he pleaded under his breath.

"Do you need me to do it for you, dumb ass?" The officer stepped forward threateningly.

Clark shook his head. Holding his breath against the hot tears forming in his eyes, his slipped his thumbs under his waistband and pulled down his boxers.

* * *

Lex feels the breeze against his face, tugging gently on his cape as he wanders out beyond the royal court, out into the wild and unkempt woods nearby. The sky is ashen. Dead leaves scurry by him in the opposite direction as if running away from what is hiding deep within the forest. Lex can't blame them. The breeze is gentle and cold and anything but comforting.

"Good day to you," says the voice. Lex always hears the voice before he sees the man it belongs to. Clark appears to leap out from behind a thick and gnarled old tree, smiling. Always smiling.

"Good day," Lex breathes, stopping in his tracks. An electric thrill rises through his core as Clark's face perks up at his response.

"You've finally decided to speak to me, then! Wonderful!" Clark comes nearer the young knight, but Lex takes two large steps back. Clark raises his hands. "Please, don't go. I don't mean to scare you away. I just want to talk to you."

Lex stays still. He suppresses a shiver as Clark scans him from head to toe. "Strange lad," Lex can't help but think aloud. He has never truly looked upon the witch until now, not with any real focus, anyway. He was always too busy fleeing the young man's embarrassing insinuations. In his deepest of hearts, Lex is taken aback by Clark's rebellious smile, his lilting voice. But he remembers the mission he is here to carry out.

"I'm beginning to recall," Lex lies. "I remember knowing you. But I can't remember where or when."

Clark's smile changes from mischievous to penetrating, nearly overwhelming Lex.

_What ungodly power he wields,_ Lex thinks, both terrified and enchanted.

Clark reaches out his arms and steps forward slowly. "I'll help you," he whispers. "And I'll make sure we never have to say goodbye again…"

Continuing his advance on Lex, Clark he reaches into his robe and pulls out a stunning red crystal, flashing in the dim light. He holds it out, as if offering it.

Lex feels paralyzed.

* * *

"I don't want it!" Lex shouted as he sat up breathlessly in bed. He took a few moments to realize he had been dreaming, and then to digest the importance of his dream. "It was all a lie," he said to himself.

A few more moments went by before Lex heard his phone ringing on his bedside table, and understood that the phone was what had awakened him. He scooped up the receiver.

"What," he sputtered.

"Lex. Danielson," a deep voice replied.

"Danielson," Lex repeated. "What do you want?"

"It's Mr. Kent, sir. He's been arrested."

Lex was silent for a period of exactly five seconds. Then he slammed the phone back into its cradle and got out of bed.

* * *

Chloe sat at the metal table of the visitor's room, drumming her fingernails haughtily. Her initial scare about getting arrested had worn off, and now she was damn mad. Lionel had set her up. She had been so sure that she had covered her tracks when she hacked into the system. But Clark had been right. She was foolish to think she could get away with anything on Lionel's own computer.

She heard footsteps approaching outside the grated door, and she stood up, folding her arms indignantly.

"Guard?" she guessed. "I'm still waiting for my phone call! If I don't talk to a lawyer in the next ten minutes, my dad is going to sue the shit out of you!"

She gasped softly as a menacing chuckle accompanied the even footsteps, and then Lionel appeared behind the door, peering in at her through the mesh with a delighted grin. "One night in the big house, and you've already succumbed to corruption, poor thing," Lionel tsked. He opened the door and approached the table.

"I didn't sleep well," Chloe said more quietly, her arms tightening across her chest.

Lionel surveyed her body language with a satisfied smirk. "Sit down, Miss Sullivan," he rasped. Without waiting for her to sit, he took a seat across the table from her and leaned back casually, crossing his legs.

"I'm not talking to you without a lawyer present," Chloe insisted, remaining on her feet.

"You know, it's a funny thing about lawyers," Lionel said, folding his hands on his thigh. "They make a conversation so official. They lure us into the comfort of confidentiality, when really anything that we say in front of them becomes fair play in court."

"I'm counting on it," Chloe snapped.

"But wouldn't you rather keep this between us?" Lionel pressed. "Considering the sensitive nature of what we have to say to each other, I mean."

"I have nothing to hide," Chloe resisted.

"Maybe not," Lionel said, his voice turning ice cold. "Clark, however, is a different story. Isn't he."

Chloe's arms shifted uncomfortably. She didn't know what to make of Lionel's insinuation, but she was suddenly suspicious that he knew something that she didn't. She was also worried for Clark's safety. She sat down slowly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said cautiously, "but it sounds like a tall tale."

Lionel guffawed. "Coming from a professional yarn spinner, that's quite a compliment. Don't try to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. Clark must share his secrets with you. You and he are…_friendly_, yes?"

"No, we're mortal enemies. That's why we spend nearly every waking minute together,"

Chloe quipped with a roll of her eyes.

"Excluding the minutes that he's spending with my son, you mean?" Lionel carefully enunciated.

Chloe's heart leaped in her chest, and she struggled to come up with an answer.

"Seems as if you and Lex could both use a little practice in covering your tracks," Lionel finished.

Chloe remained still for a long moment. When she finally decided that she couldn't talk her way out of this, she spoke. "What do you want?"

Lionel uncrossed his legs and put his hands on the table, ready to start business. "Well, isn't that obvious? I want to know what you and Clark wanted with the file that you stole from me."

"Nothing," Chloe lied. "I was digging. I'm an investigative reporter."

"Now, you and I both know, Miss Sullivan, that it was much more than that. Clark is clearly involved in the matter of the crystal, and I want you to tell me how."

"But—"

"Please don't forget what I know about Clark's relationship with my son," Lionel interrupted. "With one phone call, I could make your friend's life extremely difficult."

"You would do that to Lex?" Chloe asked in awe.

"Lex is a grown man. He's lived through scandals, and he'll live through more." Lionel scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Clark, on the other hand, strikes me as the type of person who could do without the widespread attention. I don't know about you, but I've sensed that his relationship with my son is not the only secret he keeps."

A long silence passed. Chloe felt her cheeks become hot, and she bit her lower lip nervously. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling trapped between two frightening options. At last, she chose one.

"Clark has been having dreams," she began.

* * *

In a tiny, suffocating cell, Clark lay facing the wall on a hard cot that was too short for his long legs. Water dripped incessantly from the sink next to the bed, but he couldn't find the motivation to do anything about it.

He felt horrible. He felt humiliated and alone. The strip search was so invasive, and he had been powerless to do anything to stop it. He was in enough trouble already without losing control in a violent display of his abilities.

The only blessing in all of this was that he was placed in a cell by himself, so at least he didn't have to worry about hiding his tears from anyone. He cried through most of the night. He felt violated and dirty. And in some irrational part of his brain, he worried that he had been unfaithful to Lex, horrified by the fact that those parts of his body that he had reserved _only_ for Lex had now been touched by someone else.

Clark scratched his chest. The faded blue uniform they put him in itched all over. But at least he had clothes at all.

Totally lost in his thoughts, Clark didn't hear the approaching footsteps outside of his cell.

"Clark."

He jumped in his bed, and sat up to look at the cell door. Lex stood there, holding onto the bars and peering through, looking stricken at Clark's disheveled hair and wet, bloodshot eyes.

"Are you okay?" Lex could barely whisper.

By way of response, Clark merely shook his head. His bottom lip began to quiver as fresh tears sprang up in his eyes, and he walked to the cell door where he leaned his forehead against Lex's between the bars. Lex snaked his hands through and cradled Clark's face, kissing him softly.

"You look terrible," Lex murmured.

Clark nodded. "I haven't slept," he stuttered. "They wouldn't let me call you. And no one has come to tell me what's going on or to give me anything to eat. And they made me get nak—" He cut off with a gasping sob. "They made me get naked," he finished miserably.

Lex pulled his head back in disbelief. "They strip searched you?"

"Yeah. They searched…everything." Clark's breath became quick and uneven as he relived the event.

"Oh, my God, Clark…" Lex shook his head, pulling Clark close again.

"And I wanted to fight them off because I know that I could have, and I kept thinking that _you_ are the only one who can touch me _there_, but I was so afraid of making things worse for us, and I know this is going to be all over the news, and I don't want you to be hurt by our relationship being exposed…"

Clark would have continued with his watery rambling, but Lex stopped him with an intense kiss. Clark sobbed into Lex's mouth, but Lex remained in place until Clark was able to calm down and slow his breathing. When the kiss ended, Clark leaned his forehead against Lex's once more and placed his hands over the bars on top of Lex's hands.

"I'm sorry we stole from your dad," Clark muttered.

Lex gave Clark another brief kiss. "_You _didn't steal from my father, Clark. Chloe did."

"But she did it for me… How did you know that? And how did you know that I was here? I didn't get a phone call."

Lex opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted when a sharp buzz sounded at the end of the empty cell block, and a tall middle-aged man in an expensive suit entered. Clark quickly tried to pull away from Lex, fearing what would happen if this man saw their display of affection, but Lex reached through the bars with one arm, reaching around Clark's shoulder to keep him close. He pulled his other arm away so that he could face the suited man. Clark felt nervous about the presence of another stranger, but he felt relieved having Lex remain in contact.

"Danielson," Lex said.

"I'm sorry I didn't get through to you sooner, Lex," the man said. "I didn't find out until this morning."

"Didn't find out what?" Clark asked softly. He was surprised to see Danielson produce a set of keys which he used to unlock the door to Clark's cell, and Lex stepped away so that Danielson could slide the door open.

"Clark…" Lex hesitated. "This wasn't a real arrest. My father did this to you and Chloe."

The bars that had separated them slid out of the way, and as much as Clark wanted to fall into Lex's arms, he couldn't bring himself to move.

"Your father…"

"The cops who took you away are dirty," Danielson filled in. "They have been on Lionel's payroll for years."

"But I'm paying them more," Lex said. "And I've ordered them to inform me if my father ever acts against my interests."

Clark shook his head. "So why did they…" he trailed off, tearing up.

"They didn't know that you are one of my interests," Lex replied. "Clark, I am so sorry for what you went through."

"Your father had them… do that to me?" Clark trembled.

Lex took Clark's hand and squeezed it with both of his own. "I had no idea he would go to such extremes," he apologized sincerely. "I promise you'll be under my protection from now on."

Still shaking his head, Clark pulled his hand away from Lex and wrapped his arms around himself. "No. No," he repeated shakily.

Lex sighed. He turned his gaze from Clark to Danielson. "Will you excuse us?"

"Sir," Danielson complied and left the cell block.

"Clark…" Lex slowly approached Clark and embraced him. Clark kept his hands wrapped tightly around his chest, but he let his head drop onto Lex's shoulder.

"How could your father do that to me?"

"I read the document that you and—I mean—that Chloe stole from him. I had no idea he was taking all of this so seriously. He must realize that you know more than you told him. Maybe he even thought you had the crystal on you."

"_He _has the crystal," Clark insisted. "He said so in his report."

"The other crystal, Clark. The one that you—um, that the _other_ you used to kill the king."

Clark shook his head. "But his record didn't mention anything about the other crystal."

"He _wouldn't_ mention it if he was luring you into a trap, trying to get the second crystal away from you. Or from Chloe."

Clark's head shot up from Lex's shoulder with a start. "Chloe! We have to find her! She's in danger too!"

Lex planted his hands on Clark's shoulders, steadying him. "Danielson is going after her right now. She'll be okay."

"I have to go with him. I want to help," Clark said. He tried to maneuver past Lex, but Lex stepped to the side, blocking Clark's exit.

"I think you had better let him take care of it," Lex said. "I don't want you putting yourself in my father's way again."

"Lex, if I had known that I wasn't really being arrested I—"

"You what?" Lex pressed. "What would you have done?"

Clark paused before he answered, his thoughts racing. "I mean… It doesn't matter now. I have to get to Chloe." He stepped to the other side, but Lex blocked him again.

"What can you do to help, Clark?" Lex said, growing agitated. "Danielson is a very capable—"

"I can get there faster than he can!" Clark blurted.

"How?" Lex blurted back. "How is that possible, Clark?"

Clark closed his eyes tightly with an impatient sigh as he caught on to what Lex was implying. "Damn it, Lex, are we back on this again?"

"It is more important now than ever that we be honest with each other, Clark. Please. If I'm going to protect you, I need to know everything."

"I don't need you to protect me," Clark muttered. Then, "You _do _know everything," he amended quickly.

"No, I don't," Lex responded. "I know there's more going on than what you've told me. And it's okay, Clark. I understand why you're afraid—"

"I'm not afraid…" Clark lied, lowering his eyes.

"I understand why you would think you need to lie to me, and it's okay," Lex went on.

"I'm not lying!" Clark shouted.

"And it's okay, Clark, because I lied to you too."

Clark froze with his mouth open. "What?"

"Have you had anymore dreams recently?" Lex asked, breathing heavily.

After a long moment of not knowing how to respond, Clark finally shook his head. "I didn't sleep last night."

Lex cleared his throat and steeled his shoulders. "I had a dream. And I found out that I lied to you."

"What do you mean you found out?"

"I mean, I had a dream that took place before all of the other dreams that we've had so far. It was the beginning, before we even knew each other."

Clark's eyebrows arched with cautious curiosity.

"It was a lie, Clark," Lex said through a constricted throat. "My father…I mean, the king. The king made me get involved with you so that we could defeat you. I lied to you."

The muscles in Clark's forearms flexed across his chest. "You didn't love me?" he asked softly.

Lex shrugged. "Well, that's the thing. I do remember… having feelings for you. Later. But in the beginning… I hated you." Clark let slip a nearly silent gasp. "I was trying to bring you down."

Clark bit his bottom lip, holding back his hurt. "So that's how the king got the red crystal," he said sullenly.

"You gave it to me…" Lex began.

"…and you gave it to him," Clark finished.

A silence as thick as molasses ensued. Lex was the first to break it.

"So you see?" he started carefully. "I lied to you. But I'm coming forward with the truth now because of how much you mean to me. And because I trust you to forgive me." Breath. "You can be honest too, Clark."

"Lex, I—"

"For _us_," Lex begged. "What kind of relationship can we have if you don't trust me?"

"But I _do_ trust you, Lex!" Clark exploded. "I…" Inhalation. "I _love_ you."

Lex pursed his lips, his own eyes beginning to sting as his clenching teeth caused his temples to pulsate. "Is _that_ the truth?" he asked tremulously. "Or is that you avoiding the issue?"

"Lex…" Clark breathed, too shocked to say anything more. In that moment, Lex's cell phone rang. He stared into Clark's eyes for a few seconds longer, searching for an answer. His phone continued to ring insistently. Eventually, he reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled the phone out.

"What?" he spat.

"Lex," Danielson's voice rang breathlessly. "Lex, you have to—"

He faded away.

"Hello? Danielson? What's going on?"

There was a pause on the line during which Lex and Clark exchanged a worried look. Clark held his head close to Lex's to hear what was happening. A new voice came onto the line.

"My son, I believe this silliness has gone on long enough," came the gruff voice of Lionel Luthor. "The time has come for you and your young friend to tell me what you know."

"Clark!" shouted Chloe in the background, her voice shrouded in a soft echo.

"Chloe!" Clark shouted back. Then, to Lionel, "If you hurt her…"

"I'm afraid threats are not yours for the making, boy," Lionel interrupted coldly. "Son. We need to talk. Now."

"Where are you?" Lex demanded.

"I know where they are," Clark said. He grabbed the phone out of Lex's hand and snapped it shut.

"Clark, what are you doing? We need to know how to find them!"

Clark pulled Lex close and spoke into his ear. "There are a lot of things I need to explain to you, and I can't take that much time right now. I promise, I _will_ explain. But Chloe needs us, and we have to get to her."

"_Where?!_" Lex yelled.

"I swear I'll explain this later," Clark vowed.

And without another word, he swept Lex into his arms and sprinted out of the penitentiary at light speed.

* * *

Seconds later, the burning wind that had battered against Lex's face died away, and he slowly opened his eyes. The cloudy Metropolis sky lay hideously overhead, and he found himself standing next to Clark outside the front doors of the Metropolis Museum. He tried to ask what had just happened, but he had no air left in his lungs.

"I recognized the echo," Clark explained feebly. "Come on. There's no time."

Ignoring the large "Closed for Renovations" sign hanging in the window, Clark yanked the front doors open. He pulled Lex by the arm and they ran, at relatively normal speed, down the long echoing hallway. They screeched to a halt outside the Scottish exhibit. As Clark had expected, they found Chloe and Danielson seated side by side in front of the historical displays in a couple of wooden chairs with their arms tied behind them. Danielson was unconscious. The modest amount of light that found its way into the room came from the skylight above.

"Chloe!" Clark cried. He jogged toward where Chloe sat, but he stopped short when he heard the metal clink of a gun being cocked. A young man stepped seemingly out of nowhere, placing a black pistol to the side of Chloe's head.

"Clark…" Chloe squeaked, quaking in her seat.

"Brian!" Lex exclaimed, recognizing the man with the gun as the foolish young security guard who had caught him and Clark making out the last time they had visited the museum. Clark's eyes widened in rage as he also recognized Brian.

"You little son of a bitch…" He began to advance on the guard.

"Clark," Lex said, placing a warning hand on Clark's shoulder.

"Back off, man!" Brian shouted nervously.

"You're going to put that gun down," Clark admonished the young man authoritatively. "Or I will put _you_ down."

Lionel cleared his throat from behind Clark and Lex, and they jerked around to face him. "I realize you are a remarkably… _talented_ young man," Lionel insinuated menacingly. "But even you can't get to Chloe faster than that bullet can get into her head. Unless you'd like to try."

Clark turned back to Chloe. The barrel of the gun was still planted firmly against the side of her head. He didn't want to press his luck. "What do you want?" he asked Lionel.

"The same thing I've always wanted. The truth." Lionel came a few steps closer to Clark, the soles of his expensive shoes clacking ominously in the large room. "I feared you didn't understand the importance of my quest during our last conversation. I trust that I have your attention now?"

"You can let Chloe go," Clark said. "She has nothing to do with this."

"Judging from her thievery, I would say she has everything to do with it," Lionel answered with a wry smile. "I'll let her go when I get my answers."

"Clark, he's lying," Chloe yelled out, her voice rattling. "You could tell him everything, and he still wouldn't let me go. Don't give him what he wants."

"Clark, she's right," Lex whispered forcefully at Clark's side. "There has to be another way."

"Unh-unh-unh," Lionel reprimanded, wagging his finger at Clark and Lex like they were misbehaving children. "No more secrets, boys. Clark, it's time for you to tell me what I need to know."

Clark's breath hitched as he glanced again at Chloe's terrified and sweating face, then back to Lionel. "Why does it matter so much to you?" he asked Lionel desperately.

"Why does it matter?" Lionel asked incredulously, coming still closer. "Why, it's my legacy! Those crystals belonged to my ancestors, and they should have been passed down to me!"

"They never belonged to you!" Clark argued.

"Clark…" Lex warned.

"They belonged to _my_ ancestors!" Clark continued.

"Clark, stop it!" Chloe shrieked.

"The crystals only ended up with you because of your traitorous son!"

As soon as the words were out, Clark slapped a hand over his mouth as if trying to push them back in.

Lionel's eyes lit up as his gaze shifted back and forth between Lex and Clark. He spoke through genuine laughter. "Oh, dear me," he chuckled. "Am I to understand that we've had another revelation?"

"Damn it," Lex said under his breath, bringing his hands to his face.

"And from the look of things, it wasn't a very _romantic _chapter to your little saga," Lionel mocked. "Did your knight in shining armor tell you a white lie?"

"You forced him to do it!" Clark bellowed. "He never would have made that choice on his own!"

"Clark, please…" Lex pleaded.

"Oh, you'd be surprised what Luthors are capable of," Lionel corrected. "Isn't that right, son? If I recall correctly, you even had the audacity to steal a leather snuff pouch right off of your mother's dead body before she was buried."

Everyone was silent. "What?" Lex whispered.

"Oh, yes," Lionel went on. "I remember putting it around her neck quite clearly. I wanted her to be buried with it, as it was the last gift I gave to her. But there it was hanging around your insolent neck the day that you and I planned to take down the witches."

Lex's mouth hung open. "How do you..."

"I'd recognize that pouch anywhere," Lionel said. "Even in the dim glow of the candlelight in that drafty cellar."

"How do you know that?" Lex screamed. "I didn't even tell Clark that much!"

"I've been having some dreams of my own," Lionel declared triumphantly.

"Oh, my God," Lex moaned.

"No!" Clark shouted. "No, that's not possible! You weren't there!"

"Apparently I was," Lionel taunted. "Some version of me, anyway. Isn't it _fascinating_?"

Clark shook his head adamantly. "I don't believe it."

"You don't believe what," Lionel asked, all warmth dropping from his voice. "That I horned in on your silly fantasy play with Lex? Or that you killed me, and I came back to avenge myself? You murdering deviant! Aaaah!"

Lionel cried out as Clark super sped forward and grabbed him by the throat. But before Clark could do any real damage, a bright red light shone through Lionel's breast pocket, bathing the room in the color of blood. Lionel tried to grab for the crystal, but it burned his hand with a searing hiss of sizzling flesh. Then the crystal emitted a deep hum which grew in volume and resonance with each passing second, quickly becoming deafening.

"Aaaah!" Lionel screamed again.

"Mr. Luthor!" Brian screamed in response.

"Clark!" Lex yelled.

"Clark! The crystal! He has the crystal!" Chloe shrieked.

"Don't do it, man!" Brian yelled from behind Chloe, barely audible under the roar of the crystal. "I swear to God, I'll kill her!"

A red flame burst through Lionel's jacket, spreading quickly along his arm. He screamed again.

"Mr. Luthor!" Brian cried again dumbly.

"Dad!" Lex echoed.

"Aaaaah!" Clark let loose an animal growl and reached through the crimson flames to Lionel's chest to grab the crystal, closing it tightly in his fist. As soon as he did so, thunder crashed outside and a bolt of lightning struck through the skylight, shattering the glass and rippling across the floor of the great room. Everyone was sent flying in opposite directions, crashing into the marble walls.

And then the roar of the crystal changed into…

* * *

Fire.

Clark and Lex stand side by side in the middle of a burning forest. The Scottish forest. The overcast sky is barely visible for all the black smoke that swims through the air, and nearly every tree in sight is being devoured in the ear-splitting roar of spiraling, circling orange flames.

They look at each other and are surprised by what they see. Lex is not a knight. He is his 21st century self, a bald young man in a suit. Clark is not a witch, but a young farm boy in a flannel shirt and jeans. Clark begins to ask what is happening, but he is interrupted by shouting in the distance. He and Lex both gasp as two young men, two alternate versions of themselves, sprint into view.

"You can't leave!" the knight screams through the howling of the fires. "You've destroyed my home! I have nowhere else to go!"

"You should have thought about that before you lied to me!" the witch screams in response. The power of his voice causes the flames to shudder around them. "You and your malevolent father!" He pulls his white crystal out of his robes and holds it up angrily. The crystal's glow is now completely gone. "His blood has rendered my crystal useless!" He throws the crystal into the burning trees.

"But I came forward with the truth!" the knight justifies. "I told you what my father and I had planned because I've had a change of heart! _I love you_!"

The wind wreaks havoc on Clark's dark hair as he helplessly watches the exchange. Lex, standing at his side, takes his hand, the wind stinging his eyes. The witch and the knight clearly don't notice that they have an audience.

"There is nothing left here for my people!" the witch cries. "We thought we could form a peaceful alliance somehow, but we have failed. _You _have failed. You and your pathetic race!" The witch is furious and clearly saddened by having to leave.

"_Etienne!_" the knight begs through tears. He falls at the witch's feet and hugs his waist. "Please! I can't lose you! I swear I will never lie to you again! Stay with me! I can't be without you!"

The witch wipes tears from his own eyes, cradling the knight's head in his hands. "Truly?" he asks.

The knight looks up into his lover's eyes hopefully and nods his head. "I want to be with you always! Forever!"

The witch gets down on his knees so that his eyes are level with the knight's eyes. They share a long and passionate kiss. Clark squeezes Lex's hand painfully as they look on, unable to move. When the kiss is finally over, the witch puts a hand on the knight's face.

"You have to stay right here," he says.

"But I'll die!" the knight argues.

"You can come back," the witch confides into the knight's ear. As he speaks, he pulls the king's gold chain out of his robes with the red crystal dangling from the end. He fastens the chain around the knight's neck and kisses him on the forehead. "Keep this with you. No matter what happens. No matter how you suffer."

The knight nods desperately.

"I have to go," the witch finishes. He kisses his knight one final time, and they embrace tightly, shedding tears onto one another's shoulders.

"Goodb—" the knight begins to say.

"Don't," the witch cuts him off.

And then before another word can be spoken, the witch speeds away through the encroaching flames, leaving his beloved knight to burn.


	11. Epilogue A Picnic in the Hills

Title: Epilogue – A Picnic in the Hills

Author: Mitch

Series: Part 11

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

A/N: *sigh* I've loved writing this story. I hope you love it too. Peace to all of you and happy reading!

* * *

_Six Months Later._

Clark jerked awake with a sharp intake of breath. He sat up quickly to look around.

He was in an endless, grassy field beneath a grey sky, and a chilling wind rose off of the water nearby. He wondered momentarily if he was actually awake. He knew he had been dreaming moments earlier, but he couldn't remember what the dream was about.

A warm hand crept its way up his back, stopping at his shoulders and squeezing the muscles there with glorious strength. Clark turned to face his companion happily, finally coming back to full awareness.

"Hey, you," he said softly.

Lex sat up next to him. "Hey," he answered.

They looked around themselves with mild amusement. They were seated on a red blanket on the ground, their discarded plates and empty champagne glasses resting next to a wicker basket at their feet. An empty champagne bottle lay farther away, having rolled off of the blanket and onto the grass with the wind. Their horses waited patiently behind them, tied off to two large tree trunks at the edge of the field.

"I really think this is the place," Clark said with a self-assured nod.

"We can't know that for sure," Lex replied, planting a quick kiss on Clark's cheek. He lay back down with one hand comfortably behind his head, the other hand still massaging Clark's back softly.

"But the castle ruins are only a mile from here!" Clark persisted. "This has to be the place. The place where we…" Clark blushed adorably. "The place where we _made love_." He whispered the last two words mischievously, eliciting a half-drunken giggle from Lex's throat.

"This _is_ the place where we made love," Lex answered slyly. Clark turned to look at him, his blush deepening.

"I don't mean just now, Lex!" Clark chided. "I mean back then. After we escaped from your father. I-I mean, the king."

Lex's hand stilled on Clark's back for half a second, then continued its expert kneading. They hadn't spoken much about Lex's father since the day at the museum. Clark was never sure how sensitive Lex was about the situation, and they only talked about it sparingly, usually when Clark brought it up on accident.

"Has there been any change?" Clark ventured nervously.

Lex shook his head without opening his eyes. "He's still in a coma."

Clark nodded. He put his hand on Lex's chest and felt the crystal under his shirt, hanging from a chain around his neck.

"You don't have to wear it all the time," Clark said. Lex opened his eyes at that.

"If something happens to me without it," Lex started.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Lex…" Clark repeated by rote. This had become a very familiar conversation.

"If something _should_ happen to me," Lex continued, "I need the crystal so that I can come back. If your theory about the people of your race being reborn again and again is correct, then I'll be damned if I'm going to let a little thing like death stop me from coming to find you each time you go around."

Clark smiled sweetly. "Good thing," he agreed. But his smile faded. "If I had only recognized the crystal when I killed… when the other me killed the king. He wouldn't have come back as Lionel…"

"A Luthor is a Luthor, Clark," Lex stated. "I have no doubt that any father of mine would be a bastard, even if he wasn't The Magnificent Bastard himself."

"_You're_ a Luthor," Clark said anxiously.

"But I'm also a gallant knight," Lex countered, smiling.

"If I had only had the crystal from the beginning of this life, though," Clark went on, clearly determined to worry. "I would have remembered everything, and I could have found you sooner."

Lex laughed in spite of himself. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, Clark, but the first years of your life were spent fleeing a dying planet. I understand if your mind wasn't really focused on dating at the time."

Clark laughed too, a little sadly. "What kind of race did I come from, anyway? They couldn't even make peace among themselves. What made them think they could come here and make peace with humans?"

Lex pulled Clark back down into his arms, resting Clark's face on his chest. He kissed the top of Clark's head, his toes curling at the feel of Clark's impossibly soft hair. "Well, they weren't _all_ bad," Lex advised.

"At least we're being honest with each other this time," Clark said.

"_Finally_," Lex interjected with mock exasperation, in response to which Clark lightly jabbed his shoulder.

"The last one ended so badly," Clark whispered, sitting up again to look at the dense forest in the distance, thick and abundant, showing no sign of the all-consuming fires that burned so long ago.

Lex sat up too, wrapping his arms around Clark from behind. He gently breathed in the scent of Clark's neck. "Do you think that's the same forest too? The one that your people burned down?"

Clark nodded. "I have a feeling about this place. I really think this is where it all happened." He sighed as Lex kissed his ear. "I wish there was a way we could know for sure."

They shared a long silence as the breeze rustled gently over the grass, chilling them only slightly as they held each other close. The lush fields of Scotland stretched out before them beautifully, striking in both of them a feeling of enchantment, a feeling of love, and a feeling of otherworldly nostalgia. The very earth beneath them seemed to quiet itself as if in preparation for a sacred and solemn event.

"_Etienne,_" Lex whispered suddenly.

A shiver shot up Clark's spine. "What?"

"Do you remember?" Lex asked. "The last vision we had after you took the crystal from Lionel in the museum? I called you by your witch name. _Etienne._"

Clark turned to Lex, his eyes widening with recognition. He nodded. "I forgot about that."

"It means 'crown,'" Lex offered simply, an unmistakable expression of pride and adoration filling his face.

"Really?" Clark asked with wonder.

Lex nodded.

They stared into each other's eyes a while longer, smiling. High above them, a pocket of blue sky filtered through the clouds, and rays of golden sunlight shone down onto their spot in the grass, warming them deeply.

"This is the place," Clark said.

Lex nodded again.

They looked back out over the field. "This is our place," Clark repeated.

The two boys drew closer to each other and leaned their heads together, side by side, bathed in perfect love and beautiful light.

THE END


End file.
